Wherever She Goes
by The Crow and the Butterfly
Summary: The beginnings, the endings, and the bits in-between. T/M. 09: "You know what our problem is?" Tsubasa replies. "Our problem is that we have too many problems."
1. Birthday Surprises

Wow, this is my first story in a while, huh? I've been wanting to write a Tsubasa/Misaki for ages, and I finally got around to typing it all up. Hope you enjoy.

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_**Tsubasa, 2002**_

Nobody listens to me. Really. When I tell Tono to cut his hair because it's getting too long and I keep thinking he's a cute girl from behind, does he do it? Nope. When I yell at that gay freak Amane to give up on me already, because I will never ever, even if they start having Christmas parties in hell, go out with him or whatever it is he wants, does he? Nuh-uh. And I'm absolutely positively certain that I very clearly specified that I didn't want a birthday party.

Did Misaki listen? No.

I should have known. That's what happens when one of your good friends is honestly concerned about your self-esteem, even if partly because she caught you trying to scratch your name in your wrist with a safety pin in class once when you were bored. When you tell her "no party" apparently she hears "I'm just feeling sorry for myself because my only friends are you and Kaname and Megane and Tono and Bear if he counts, and that's not enough to have a good party, especially because Kaname probably wouldn't be able to come anyway and Tono won't go near Bear ever since the stupid fluffball gave him a black eye last year, and I don't even know what Megane's actual name is. You know what would make me feel better? Why don't you throw me a party with the entire Special Ability Class? The more, the merrier, huh?"

That, of course, never went through my head.

Alright, maybe once or twice. But, still.

I think it's just that I don't speak girlish or girlese or whatever that weird cryptic language that girls speak in is called. I mean, girls don't say what they mean or what they want. In a normal world governed by the laws of common sense, if someone says that they don't want a fuss on their birthday, hypothetically, then they don't get a fuss. Apparently, they actually want a fuss, so they yell at your for not making a fuss, then you yell back that they said not to make a fuss, and then they kick you in the knee multiple times, and then you make a fuss, and they're happy, and you can't walk right for three days.

(This is all hypothetical, remember).

All I need to know about girls, I learned from getting beat up. Or from Tono, but I'd like not to think about some of the stuff he tells me.

So, I went up to Megane earlier this afternoon.

"Hey." I said.

He waved me off; too busy with his game boy type thing that they let you have in class because it's actually supposed to be a calculator. It used to be mine. He stole it out of my backpack six months ago and I don't care enough to wrestle it back.

I tried again.

"What are we doing in Ability class later? Misaki doesn't know."

"'Course she knows." he answered, still not looking up. "We're having Tsubasa's birthday party, remember? Don't tell him, though. It's a…"

He trailed off awkwardly, turning his head slowly in the classic dramatic double take.

"Surprise?" I guessed.

The moron sighed, but brightened within seconds. "Surprise!" he cheered in a friendly sort of way, though it was a bit pathetic all the same.

I think that even he knows how bad he is at this. It's surprising, seeing how much practice he gets at being the bearer of bad news.

For example, a few months ago: "Hey, well, Tono's going around betting people actual money that you and Misaki are going to be, like, sex friends by the time you're in high school. You know, when you're hooking up, but not actually together…"

(I learned sometime later that he actually put in half his allowance).

"Misaki's going to kill you." I stated simply, flopping into the seat behind him. "This was her idea, I assume."

"Yep." he groaned. "You know, I don't know how you put up with her without wearing shin guards all the time."

I leaned forwards and watched Megane's abandoned game character fall into an unfortunately placed hole. "She's not that bad, really."

"I guess you're right. A helmet would be better, huh?"

Before I could figure out whether to defend my chick friend or agree wholeheartedly, Misaki-sensei had entered the room and everyone snapped back down into their actual seats. The red-headed traitor sat down on my right and dug out a notebook. I glared at her for two and a half minutes straight. She didn't notice.

Well, I needed something to do. I started coloring my fingernails purple with Sharpie.

When I finished the left side and was busy trying to figure out how to do the right nails with appropriate precision, Misaki (Not the one who is authorized to give me detention, thank god) looked over at me and my permanent-ink-stained hands and rolled her eyes. Flipping open my folder (mine!), she ripped an old geometry test in half (mine also, not that I care about my geometry tests) and scribbled on the back of it in blue ballpoint.

_Do you want to look like you smashed all your fingers with a hammer? Honestly, you could at least try paying attention for once. _

I took the note, replying sloppily with the thick marker and shoving it back under her traitorous nose.

_I'm mad at you, you know. _

Misaki almost laughed when she read the paper over, but disguised it as a cough when the teacher looked up curiously. She bent her head down low over the table, her hair shielding our note from view.

_I share my food, I cover for you when you skip class, and I practically pass your exams for you every damn year. I thought we agreed that you'd never be mad at me, ever._

_By the way, what are you mad at me for, exactly?_

Apparently, it didn't even cross her mind.

_Let's just say I won't be showing up to ability class next period._

There was a definite eye roll when she read that bit.

_You heartless bastard, is that what this is about? Why can you not accept that people want to get you presents and have fun and generally shower you with affection?_

_Oh, come on. We have cake. Kaname bribed this one girl from technical to make it for us. _

I stared in shock. Not the part when she called me a heartless bastard, that happened on a regular basis. Not the part about being showered with affection, which I wasn't too thrilled about anyway, but could maybe eventually learn to deal with if it keeps on happening.

_I can't believe you're making Kaname use his alice just so I can have a stupid birthday cake! You do know it's killing him, right?_

Misaki sighed, rolling her eyes for the third time in two minutes.

_It's not like we were going to stop him. They're letting him out of the hospital and everything. He was all gung-ho about it because he "thought you could use some cheering up." _

_Cheering up about what?_

Cheering up about what? Good question. Once we ended up talking about feelings, I decided it was about time to change the subject completely.

_Hey, will you do my right hand?_

Meaning draw on my fingernails, of course. Not… Well, you know. Misaki didn't catch it, though.

_I will not "do" any part of you, thanks._

I hurriedly scribbled a response on the edges of the paper before she burnt though me with a stare of disgust.

_Not like that, stupid. I meant my fingernails._

I waved my purple hand at her. She grimaced, her expression clearly screaming "No way."

"_It's my birthday" _I mouthed.

She gave in, grudgingly. Seizing my hand and my marker, she anchored the former firmly against her leg underneath the desk. She uncapped the Sharpie and held the lid in her mouth. As she squinted down at my hand, filling in missed spots, I couldn't help thinking that I probably looked like I was having a heart attack.

Not that I've ever seen anyone have a heart attack. Whatever.

That neat little recap brings us up to now. I'm outside the classroom, back against the wall, hiding from people, presents, and cake, and thinking over how much of a coward I am. Does that sound stupid to you?

Yeah. Me too.

I wonder what exactly it is that I'm afraid of. Misaki would go all psychiatrist on me and say that I'm afraid of love or something like that. I'm not sure if 'love' and 'party' are on the same plane, but it's the best I'm going to get. Of course, love-phobia sounds like the stupidest and most irrational fear that you could possibly have, so I've done everything in my power to convince her that she's delusional.

Then again, I'm the one hiding from my own birthday party.

I take a deep breath and turn the doorknob.

"Hey! Hey, you guys, somebody turn out the lights!"

"No, not me! He's closer!"

"Somebody help me with the cake! It's gonna fall!"

Several heads turn stupidly towards the now-open door.

"Hey." says Megane, shifting awkwardly; the metal tab from a soda can in his mouth. "He's here. Happy birthday."

"Weren't we supposed to yell surprise?" questions one of the younger elementary students.

"Oh, right." Tono laughs.

"Surprise!" choruses the class (now that I look around, plus Kaname), cheerily waving their glasses or whatever they happened to be holding at the moment.

Ah, the Special Ability Class. Inept as ever, but don't you just want to hug them all?

Misaki runs forwards and pulls me into the crowd, Kaname (holding Bear, who many of the surrounding people are glancing at warily every few seconds) at her heels.

"Well, well." she giggles smugly. "Look who decided to show up."

"I didn't have anything else to do, and some stupid kid was in my tree." I grumble, staring at the opposite wall. "Be quiet."

Not much later, it became clear that everyone had been too busy keeping all of this a secret to think of something to actually do once the party got going. As tends to happen when you put several adolescents in a room together with sugar for an hour or so with nothing much else to do, we end up in a circle in the center of the room, playing truth or dare. I've never really seen the appeal of it, personally. It's just kind of a "let's-tell-all-our-deepest-darkest-secrets" game, and I always thought the point of secrets wasn't to tell everybody you know. Despite a good amount of chiding from Kaname, I opt out.

It's still fun to watch, though. Just because you don't humiliate yourself doesn't mean you can't get a spectator seat while everyone else does.

"Hmmm… You, old guy, truth or dare?"

"Dare." Tono leans back against a table leg, not bothering to protest at being called "old guy".

Megane grins in a very uncharacteristic way that terrifies most of the people in the vicinity and takes something shiny from behind his back. Most of the class recoils in horror as his pair of scissors open and close menacingly, making that scraping kind of sound that you just associate with cutting stuff.

Tono not included.

"Violence isn't allowed." he states matter-of-factly.

"Oh," says the bespectacled wonder. "What I'm cutting isn't going to bleed."

"What do you mean?"

"Your hair, stupid. I'm going to cut your hair."

The room explodes into laughter as Tono stands up and scrambles backwards until he hits a desk. "No way am I letting you near my head with those. You sadistic bastard."

Misaki seizes the scissors from Megane's grip. "Let me do it! I wanna do it!"

"Hey! Let go!"

Misaki wins. In her typical fashion, she's got the coward pinned to the ground in less than a minute. Everyone stands up and crowds around, and it looks more like a fistfight than a haircut.

"Stop squirming!" Misaki complains. "Do you want me to slit your throat by accident?" Tono surrenders grudgingly, staring distastefully at the girl sitting on his stomach. She snips off a huge hunk of hair from the left side of his head and grins triumphantly.

"Aren't you going to do the rest?" asks Tono, with a slightly hysterical tone.

"Nah," giggles Misaki. "It's fine like this."

"Are you kidding me?"

She flicks him on the forehead, smiling in her fakest, sweetest, most innocent way, and you can practically see the little sideways smiley face when she talks. "Nope. Sorry, though."

"Damn you." he hisses, flipping over and trapping her underneath him.

I don't know about you, but it irritates me if a thirteen-year old girl and a seventeen-year old boy stay in that position for that long. Or, any amount of time, really. It probably classifies as sexual harassment, so, at least I have a reason. I'm not, like, in love with Misaki, or anything else along those lines that Megane or Tono or Narumi (teachers should mind their own business, really) or the rest of the school might insinuate. It's just weird, sick and wrong. Intervention is necessary.

I push my way into the middle of the circle and kick Tono in the side. When he rolls over in pain, I grab Misaki and pull her up.

"Get off her."

"Get off _me_!" she commands, flailing her arm wildly to twist it out of my grip.

I do. I drop her. A silence spreads over the room as half of us hold our breath.

"You're dead." she groans from the floor.

So far, life has taught me to run away whenever I hear something like that. Misaki jumps up and chases me until I hit the opposite wall. Everyone follows her, eager to watch whatever the hell is going to happen next, leaving Tono and that chunk of his hair forgotten on the ground.

Before Misaki can do who-knows-what-harm to me, my best-friend-for-a-reason intervenes.

"Please don't kill him. It's his birthday."

Misaki rolls her eyes for the millionth time today, staring me down with an annoyed expression. "I'm getting tired of you playing the birthday card."

"Me? I didn't play anything!" I exclaim. "Can't you guys just get back to your game or something?"

"That's a good idea." says Kaname hurriedly, cutting of Misaki before she can say anything and dragging her back towards the middle of the room. "Come on."

The game of truth or dare resumes. First kisses are described, crushes are revealed, and virginities come into question. Not all that interesting.

"Hey, Misaki-chan. Truth or dare." Tono says lazily from the floor.

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

"Whatever. Truth or dare."

She weighs her options, and decides upon dare.

"Hmm…" he wonders aloud. I shudder as his gaze fall directly on me. "I think you should kiss someone in the room. Whoever. On the lips."

Because he's so original like that. Nevertheless, I pay attention.

"You want me to do what?" Misaki protests.

"Hey, you've been bragging about being a teenager. Act like it."

She doesn't even bother to protest that she hasn't been bragging about anything, just holding it over my head for fun. Misaki turns around to look at me too. So does the rest of the class.

_She's not going to…_

No, she's not. She whips her head around and kisses a stunned Kaname on the mouth.

What happens in my head (at least, I assume in my head) is best described as the world falling apart. A loud chorus of "Ooooh" starts up, along with a few whistles, and a startled "what the hell!" that I realize must have come from me when several neighboring people look around in alarm. Kaname looks like he would very much like to melt into the floor, and Misaki looks immensely satisfied.

I don't have the slightest idea what expression is on my face, but when I see the one on Misaki's after we make eye contact, I suppose it must be outraged. That makes sense, though. My best friends just kissed. If they started dating or something, then where would I be? What if they broke up? My life would suck forever.

I'm taken by surprise when Misaki stands back up, and grabs me by the arm. Everyone watches in a stunned silence as she slams the door behind us with unnecessary force.

"What's your problem today?" She demands, pushing me back against the door. "You're acting all weird."

"What's your problem?" I say. "You're the one who's tried to kill me like, five times in the last couple hours."

Her voice softens considerably, probably for fear of being overheard, but keeps the same angry tone. "Why did you look at me like that? After I…well, you know."

"I don't know…" I deadpan hopelessly.

"You think it's… weird… that I picked him, don't you?" Misaki asks.

"Yeah, kind of!" I answer truthfully.

"Did you expect me to kiss you?"

"Yeah, kind of!"

She leans closer, trying to get a better look at my face. "Do you… _like_ me?"

"Yeah, kind of!" I repeat without thinking.

She raises an eyebrow, and I swear I hear a faint growl.

"I… I didn't mean that." I murmur.

"You better not have." She hisses, and I feel the instinctive need to put my hands up in surrender.

"I didn't. I swear."

"Good. I'm not going to let you ruin this, you know."

"Ruin what?"

Misaki sighs, leaning back next to me against the doorframe. "You're hopeless."

We stand there awkwardly for a few moments, until I change the subject. "What's it like… being a teenager or whatever?"

"Well, for starters, you get perverted seventeen-year-olds trying to get you to kiss your friends." she grins. "But, really, it's not that different. You just have more girl crap to deal with, you know?"

"No." I say confusedly. "I'm not a girl."

"Yeah, sorry." She blushes, biting her lip.

"Well, should we like, go back inside or something?"

She turns the knob and pushes the door open, only to hear a loud yell and find Tono on the ground yet again.

"Ouch." He groans. "Give me some warning, will you?"

"Idiot. Eavesdropping is rude, you know."

While the two of them get into another argument, I make my way over to the table and slice off the entire top tier of my birthday cake. Another year, more chances for my life to be even more awkward than it already is.

* * *

This started out as a Thirty Kisses fic, but I realized that no way was I going to be able to think of thirty plots. Then it became ten chapters. Now, I'm mushing them together, cutting them out, adding new ones, and who knows how long this is going to end up.

This is more like related oneshots than an actual chaptered fic. Expect timeskips, flashbacks, reminiscence, etc. The manga came out in 2003, and Mikan joined the academy sometime in the fall (when Tsubasa and Misaki were fourteen), so I'm basing the dates off that information. This chapter is set in July of the previous year, Tsubasa's thirteenth birthday (if you somehow didn't catch that).

I'm not going to force you to review or anything. Do what you want. It's always nice, though.


	2. Point Taken

Well, on with the show. Thanks to those who read the first chapter and liked it, whether you said so or not (I'm most often in the "not" category myself, so I still like you anyway). I hope I managed to fix my grammar failure in this chapter, but there might still be errors that I didn't catch. If anyone needs a beta, don't ask me.

Oh, and the disclaimer (which I forgot last chapter): I don't own. I bet a whole lot of people would be mad at me if I did, anyway.

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_**Misaki, 2005**_

He has this thing with looking at me. It's a bit flattering, yes, but at the same time, it's kind of creepy. I'm not sure why he does it. Maybe it's because I only have a smudge on my nose or because he thinks the way I'm peeling my orange is cool or something stupid like that, but it's nice to think that he might be looking at me because he likes to. If some guy likes you, even if it's someone weird, you get that great feeling that at least somebody thinks you're awesome.

The problem is that relationships are good at ruining friendships. Tono isn't talking to half the girls in his class that he used to be friends with before (the rest of them just hate him, so he's moved on to the shopkeepers in Central Town), because of some breakup or something-or-other. It's probably not smart to base my knowledge of relationships on Tono's romantic history, but I'm pathetically behind on that kind of thing. Nobody's ever asked me out before, actually. According to Tsubasa, they all think he's got me staked out for himself. Why he knows this, I don't have a clue. I wasn't aware that he was real friendly with, well, any boys besides Kaname.

Either way, I'm terrified that someone's going to poke me in the back someday and yell "Tsubasa likes you!"

I've known for a while now that most of the school thinks we're secretly dating, and have done everything in my power to persuade them all otherwise. Mikan hasn't been helping, though. As much as I love her, she seems to have a certain fondness for prying into other people's business. If she was just being nosy, I wouldn't mind so much. However, she not only pries, but attempts to make other people's business suit her liking. Once she was done trying to set up a couple of friends from her class (that annoying one who reads minds and the other girl, in case you care), we were next on her relationships-to-meddle-with list.

According to most of the Academy's female population, the Christmas Ball, which should really be called a dance or something, because, honestly, who says "ball" anymore (in relation to dancing and music and food, anyway), is quite possibly the most romantic night of the year. It's right up there with Valentine's and the last night of the Alice Festival. For good reason, too. There's snow, costumes, presents, mistletoe all over the damn place, and that whole mask-dance-love-forever stuff. Tsubasa and I have been completely ignoring all that romantic crap since the fifth grade, which I now realize is pretty stupid if you don't want everyone to assume you're together. Mikan and company assumed just that a couple of years ago, and will forever believe that we're made for each other. Believe you me; you don't want anyone, especially Mikan, thinking that.

Alright, she's not stupid. She might have pulled whatever she was planning to do off if Hotaru hadn't been following us around all night with a camera in case we kissed or something, or if Tsubasa hadn't gotten rather badly burnt when he decided to give Mikan a piggyback ride just to piss off Natsume, or if Koko-what's-his-name hadn't read her intentions aloud at the last minute. I'm not sure exactly what was supposed to happen, but as a last-ditch effort, I assume, we ended up locked out on a balcony and showered with around eighty billion sprigs of mistletoe. It was below freezing, I was wearing that ridiculous strapless dress, and we debated whether we ought to jump off or not until my hands went numb and Tsubasa finally remembered that he could unlock the doors with his alice.

Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled.

Tsubasa just went around like always, acting like it was all a joke. Mikan's disappointed little face was all the proof I needed that it wasn't. However, Tsubasa or someone cheers her up, life goes on, and one of those adorable little girls from her class needs relationship assistance. In a way, what she does is cute. Although, I do sincerely hope that she's forgotten about us this year. It's snowing.

"Wow," says Tsubasa. "We really _do_ look like we have terrible dandruff."

I look around with an amused expression, watching him turn in circles trying to brush snow off his back. "Isn't that something that _girls _usually worry about?"

"Shut up," he retorts fiercely. "I'm wearing a black shirt."

"Well, don't worry," I sigh. "It'll melt."

Tsubasa scowls, pressing his finger to a snowflake on his sleeve. "I don't see why snow is supposedly so romantic. It's just like rain, but slower."

"Rain is plenty romantic!" I protest.

"No it's not," he replies. "It's like someone pouring a bucket of water on your head."

"Has anyone ever kissed you in the rain?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Has anyone ever kissed _you _in the rain?"

"Well, no. That's not the point."

"Is this what girls fantasize about?"

"Not cold rain. That would suck. But, you know, in summer, wouldn't that be…"

"Nuh-uh," he says matter-of-factly, lurching sideways to try to catch a flake on his tongue.

"Suit yourself," I tell him. "You're about as romantic as a ham sandwich."

"Ham sandwiches are plenty romantic." he says with a hurt tone.

I start to giggle as we push open the main doors, glancing around the huge room with appreciation. After so many years, it doesn't take your breath away like the first time, but it still stops you in your tracks for a few seconds. Tsubasa elbows me in the ribs, pointing to a small group of elementary students in their adorable costumes. Slack-jawed and dumbstruck, they stare in awe at the gigantic Christmas tree. I grin, remembering my first Christmas at the Academy.

"Well then," I say, still distracted with the little kids. "What do we do now?"

"We get food. Duh."

Tsubasa slings an arm around my shoulders, steering me over to one of the tables on the side of the room. A couple glasses float toward us as we approach, courtesy of a bored-looking levitation alice slumped over the table. Tsubasa catches them, but hands them both over to me to wave cheerily across the room. "Mikan-chan! Over here!"

She looks up from trying to scrape something off the bottom of her boot, and nearly trips over her other foot. Regaining her balance by latching onto a startled Luca-pyon, Mikan tugs him by one hand and Natsume by the other, her seemingly ever-present entourage of classmates in her wake. When she meets us by the tables, she lets go of them and takes a flying leap to hug Tsubasa around the middle. He chuckles, patting her head affectionately and smirking at the two middle-school boys.

I swear, he's a masochist.

Mikan turns back around to see Natsume with a clenched fist, his blonde buddy glancing nervously between them, and several classmates eager to see what happens next. She groans, letting go of Tsubasa and catching her boyfriend's (yeah, I never though they'd get around to it either) arm again.

"Natsume, please don't. He's my friend. He's not going to do anything weird. Right, Tsubasa-senpai?"

Tsubasa and Natsume, whose maturity levels are dropping by the second, narrow their eyes at each other over Mikan's head. Wishing to stay out of this, I set down our drinks, look around for help, and end up grabbing Luca-pyon, who looks like he shares the sentiment.

"What are you doing?" he asks, flailing his free arm wildly.

"Getting you out of there," I say while dragging him out onto the dance floor. "Our stupid friends are going to kill each other again."

He looks back at Mikan attempting to intervene, clearly embarrassed. "I guess you're right."

"Besides, I think taking you away from Mikan and Natsume is good for your sanity," I continue. He looks up at me with confusion.

"What?"

Before I can answer, Music swells up over the crowd, and the people surrounding us split off into pairs. As everyone begins to dance, we are left standing awkwardly in the center of the floor. To avoid sticking out while I attempt to conduct a serious conversation, I position my hands on his shoulders and whirl sharply around.

Unbelievable. He's twelve, and he's nearly taller than me.

Luca-pyon flushes crimson, turning in desperation for any hope of escape. Finding none, he falls into step and moves his hands tentatively to my waist.

"What… what are you doing?"

"Blending in."

"But, what did you mean before?" he asks worriedly, staring over my shoulder and refusing to meet my eyes.

"I meant that you don't have to beat yourself up over this. She likes him, not you. Learn to move on. You'll be happier that way."

"I… what?"

"Honestly," I sigh. "This is like explaining to a three-year-old. You like Mikan. Mikan likes Natsume. You like Natsume too. You tried to be happy for them, but it didn't work and now you don't know what to do. I'm right, aren't I?"

Luca-pyon narrows his eyes, staring me down for a full ten seconds. "I like Natsume? Are you trying to say that I'm gay?"

"No, I'm not, and don't change the subject. I'm trying to say that your chances with Mikan are looking anorexic-slim and you should probably just save yourself from any more heartbreak."

"And…" he begins, cautious not to give away anything more than necessary. "How would one go about doing that, exactly?"

"I don't know…" I stall. I hadn't gotten to that part.

"I think I get what you're saying. I just have to try to, you know, just be friends."

"The thing is, it's going to be really hard. You can't be just friends that easily."

He blushes again, but this time in what I think is anger. "What would you know? You're practically the poster girl for 'just friends!'"

He catches me by surprise with that comment. "I'm… what?"

"Whenever anyone tries to say that you should go out with Kage, you pretty much rip their head off," he murmurs shyly in response, quietly recovering from the outburst. I turn reflexively toward where Tsubasa and I had been, but I've lost my sense of direction with the constant spins.

"So…" I offer, now that he's pointed out the hypocrisy in my improvised advice. "Truce, then? I won't mess with your love life if you don't bring up mine."

"I never mentioned your love life, senpai." He says, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

I scrutinize him closely, looking deep into his amused blue eyes as though I'll see something different than usual. "What happened to cute little innocent Luca-pyon?"

He sighs. "Imai happened. I got a lecture on not being a pushover last month. But, what did I prove with that, exactly?"

I'm not sure either. I think he might have proved that Tsubasa is inexplicably related to my love life somehow, but it's not like I'm going to say that out loud. The song ends, and the whirling dancers slow to a halt. We end up on the far edge of the floor, a good distance away from our friends. The people around us swap partners and meet up with friends, and Luca-pyon takes a few hurried steps backwards. I grab him again by the shoulder.

"Wait. I never got an answer from you. Was I right, or was I right?"

He stares down at his feet resignedly. "You were right. I'll try and get over it. Just, don't tell anyone, okay? Promise?" Pleading, he holds out his pinky finger, but turns red when he realizes how childish he looks. I catch it anyway, hooking his finger with mine.

"Promise."

Someone from behind us clears their throat, and we jump apart in shock. One of the spiky-headed boys from Mikan's class comes up on either side of Luca-pyon (the mind-reader on his left, the flying one on his right), and each links an arm through his.

"What's going on here?" they ask in unison, the left-hand one, who probably already knows what's been going on due to his immensely annoying alice, eyeing me suspiciously.

"N-n-nothing!" stutters their captive.

"Well, that's no fun," says Koko, shooting his friend a disappointed look. "They're not really dating. We had just come over to congratulate you, Luca-pyon." He then turns to me, pointing a finger in my face. "Tsubasa-senpai wants to know where the hell you've gone."

"Did he tell you to come get me?"

"Nope," grins Koko.

I roll my eyes. "Of course not. Well, we may as well go then," I say to Luca-pyon. He looks all too relieved to extricate himself from this situation and stay as far away from me as possible. Mikan beams when she catches sight of us, and Natsume shakes his head at his best friend.

Tsubasa pokes me in the forehead. "At least tell me beforehand if you're going to disappear like that. Besides," he adds, more quietly than he started; "What's with you and blonde guys, anyway."

"Nothing!"

He catches me in a headlock. "You sure?"

"I'm sure! I'm sure! Stop that!" I gasp, dragging him in a circle and bumping into one of the tables behind us.

"Sure about what?" wonders Mikan, who stepped up to steady the table that we nearly knocked over.

"Nothing," both of us deny.

"Nah, he thinks she likes blonde guys."

Everyone in the vicinity turns to face that damn mind-reader.

"What is your problem?" I hiss, glaring at him.

"Misaki-senpai, do you like Luca-pyon?" questions Mikan eagerly. I heave an exasperated sigh.

"No, I do _not _like Luca-pyon. Not like that, anyway."

"Then why would Tsubasa-senpai think…"

"Because she kissed Sono-senpai once. Didn't you?" Koko looks up at me expectantly.

"You… _what? _Misaki-senpai!"

I back up and sit on the table, and what seems like half of the middle school section crowds up around. Obviously, I am going to be forced to make an explanation.

"Well, I'm not going to… deny it, exactly, but it wasn't… well, I… tell them, Tsubasa. Tsubasa?"

He's staring intently in the opposite direction, up into the rafters. When I follow his gaze, I notice for the first time a small balcony, shrouded almost completely in darkness. Just as I look up, a figure disappears back into the shadows, dark curls whipping around their face.

"Who's up there?" I whisper, breaking his concentration.

"It's the Dangerous Ability class. Who else would it be?" he replies. "That was Ibaragi."

I look at him closer to gauge his expression. "You're not going to go up there, are you?"

"No," he mutters absently. "I'd like to stay as far away from them as possible." I

"Why don't they come down?" I ask. "Have some fun, you know? Natsume does. So do You-chan and Mikan-chan… and so do you."

He turns back to me again, his face more serious than I've seen it all night. "They don't just have fun, Misaki. Natsume and the others, they can fit in with everybody else. They have friends. The rest of them just have each other. Everyone's scared of them, so they treat them all terribly. You've seen how people act to Ibaragi. They hate her for no reason."

I'm a little taken aback, and I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to say to that. Tsubasa notices, though, and attempts to break the tension.

"Sorry," he says. "I just can't stand it. I'm so glad that I didn't grow up involved in all that."

I place a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. It hasn't got anything to do with you. You know that."

"No I don't. I don't know anything, Misaki."

Before I can figure out what to reply, everyone within ten feet is startled by a loud squeal of "Nobara-chan!" A caramel-haired figure pushes her way through the crowd and rushes to hug Nobara Ibaragi, who is standing by an out-of-the-way corner staircase and currently the subject of more attention than she seems comfortable with. As Mikan giggles and brings a smile to her friend's face, the students around them put their heads together and whisper.

_"What's Ibaragi doing here? She's not wanted."_

Tsubasa makes an annoyed noise as the music starts up again and a few people come around handing out masks for the upcoming dances. We watch as Natsume, a simple black mask pushed up from his eyes, glares at Nobara, then locks an arm possessively around Mikan's waist and hands her a sequined one. The dark-haired girl extends an arm with a hurt expression, but the couple disappears onto the dance floor. Tsubasa shifts from one foot to the other, wearing the familiar look that means that he's contemplating doing something impulsive and probably stupid.

He gets up and walks toward Nobara, who looks up as he approaches. Her lips part in confusion, looking from his face to his now outstretched hand.

"Dance with me," he murmurs.

_Is he serious?_

She moves a hand uncertainly, but lifts it to her mouth instead of taking his.

"C'mon," pleads Tsubasa, with a lopsided smile that I never knew he could pull off, and of the sort considered completely unfair to use on any girl. "Please?"

"What are you…?" she whispers, but trails off as he takes her hand, gently tugging her from against the wall.

"Just trust me."

After a moment's hesitation, she gives in and goes along for the ride. I stare in amazement as he leads her out to the edge of the floor and she lightly follows his steps. This is surreal, like watching a completely different person. The Tsubasa I know is utterly unlikely to suddenly develop an alter ego as Prince Charming. He spins widely and dips his timid partner to the entertainment of several onlookers, and Nobara Ibaragi is laughing. Laughing. I can't help but to shake my head amusedly.

"Wow," giggles Mikan, who has removed herself from Natsume but found Nobara occupied. "Tsubasa-senpai's so cool!"

I nod mutely, transfixed. Tsubasa leans his head down so his nose brushes Nobara's soft curls, whispering something in her ear. She stands on tiptoe to reply, and her partner's head turns sharply to look at me. They carry on a hushed conversation, and I am overcome with a sudden desire to listen in.

The last notes of the song echo in the hall as people split off and find new partners. Tsubasa and Nobara share a glance, then return to Mikan and I. I open my mouth to question them, but realize that I haven't yet decided on the words. It doesn't matter. With a look of disinclination, Tsubasa seizes my arm and drags me out into the center of the crowd.

"Wait! Tsubasa, what are you doing?"

"Dancing. What does it look like?" He snakes an arm tightly around my waist, and I play along, settling my hands around the back of his neck. We revolve slowly on the spot, and lapse into an awkward silence.

"So," I say. "You two weren't wearing masks."

"Neither are we," he points out. "Besides, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Don't be stupid, Tsubasa," I warn.

His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. "I don't see why that's such a big deal. It's not like you care what people think about us, so why should I care what people think about me and Ibaragi?"

"Fine. It's not a problem. Whatever."

I concede defeat, not wanting to take this topic any further. He nods hastily, and we quietly avoid each other's eyes. I break the silence again when I remember what I was going to ask him in the first place.

"What exactly were you two talking about?"

"What?"

"You and Ibaragi. I saw you."

"Oh," he sighs reluctantly, staring at something over the top of my head. "That."

"What about that?"

I can tell he was hoping this wouldn't come up and doesn't want to say, but he also knows that he's going to have to tell me eventually. He decides that sooner is better than later in a very uncharacteristic move. "Well, basically what she told me was 'go dance with who you really want to be with.'"

"Nobara Ibaragi told you to dance with me?" I ask, always the skeptic.

"Not exactly," he says. "She didn't name names."

My reply for the answer I was expecting gets stuck in my mouth, and I backtrack, trying to think of something witty to say.

"Was that your way of trying to confess?" I manage.

Instead of backing off, Tsubasa smiles in the same way he did to charm Nobara just minutes ago. "What would you say if it was?"

For the fourth time tonight, he's left me speechless. Unconsciously, my fingers tighten around his neck, and I think he takes it as a death threat.

"Alright, alright, point taken. I was kidding," he laughs, nervously reaching up to loosen my hands. I can feel my cheeks grow hot, and I disentangle myself completely from him. We stay like that for a few moments, still among the whirling couples, until one of them bumps into me and knocks us both over.

"Owwww…" groans Tsubasa, lifting his head and rubbing it ruefully. "Shit…"

"Sorry," I mumble. He rolls out from underneath me and offers a hand. I decline and stand up myself.

"Come on, it's just a hand," he rolls his eyes. "Why are girls scared of them?"

"Thanks, but no thanks," I say, meeting his eyes again. "I can take care of myself."

"It's only common courtesy."

"Since when have you exercised common courtesy?"

"Since now."

I grin. "Fine, then. Go get me some cake, will you?"

"Get your own cake!" he scowls.

"It's only common courtesy."

"There's a difference between courtesy and servitude."

"Oh, just do it," I hiss. "Or else." Else, used as a threat, always works. It's vague, but frightening.

"Alright, I will, just shut up," he growls. "I pity your future husband."

"Don't. My husband will be an ass-kisser by nature."

He snorts. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"You bet," I laugh. "Now, go get me a good slice."

He flips me off as he heads toward the towering confection. I smile, satisfied.

I could get used to this.

* * *

I really hate it when people don't give Misaki a personality besides going around yelling and hitting people. Then, I re-read the manga and realized that she actually doesn't have much of one. So, I don't really know how she would think. Parts of what she said to Luca, especially, aren't making sense, but perhaps she doesn't know what she's talking about either.

The premise for this chapter began as the last part, from the Nobara bit onwards, but then somehow expanded a couple thousand words. The part with Luca was completely off the top of my head, but I like it anyways. I'm me, so Luca has to make at least one appearance.

You can't imagine how happy I am that this came out the same day it's set (albeit four years later). Really. My life is just that interesting.

Same goes as chapter one. Review if you feel like it. Nice reviews actually _do_ make my day, though, so it's always nice.


	3. Being Reasonable

Here's chapter three. At least it's long-ish, so that sort of makes up for the holdup. Enjoy. Maybe.

Disclaimer: Oh, you get the point.

_**

* * *

****Misaki, 2007**_

It's practically a given. When you stick a whole bunch of kids with special powers, many of whose can be unpredictable at times; you're going to end up with some pretty nasty accidents. Before Tono learned to control his alice, he was essentially a walking disaster. And don't even get me started on that farting alice kid. Weird stuff is expected. And, on this would-be lovely afternoon, the phenomenon is proved yet again.

This morning when I woke up, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and it almost seemed like spring was going to come way ahead of schedule. I hopped out of bed, dressed hurriedly and optimistically, and all but skipped out the door. It's now approximately two p.m., and somebody by the windows just brought the fact that it's snowing to the attention of the rest of the class.

At the moment, this announcement does more to ruin my previously enthusiastic mood than it does to excite me further. Tsubasa, on the other hand, stands up hopefully. I catch his sleeve with a sigh.

"How old are you, like, ten? You're acting like a kid."

"No…" he says, squinting at the window, his voice betraying a nearly delirious happiness. "Look at this, it's really snowing. Like, legit snowing. Blizzard snowing."

There is the inevitable scraping of chairs and outbreak of conversation as our classmates begin to get up and press their noses against the glass. I turn my head sharply over towards the commotion, and Tsubasa's telling the truth. Outside, it's so white that I can barely see our surroundings anymore.

"What the hell…?" I wonder absently, moving up to peek over his shoulder. "How on earth?"

"This is excellent!" he laughs, not paying any attention to me, or anyone else, for that matter. "There's no way they can make us go now!"

"Go where?" I inquire.

He whips around, the smile sliding off his face. "Oh… nowhere."

I raise an eyebrow, pretty sure I know what he's talking about, but I decide to let it slide for now. He deserves it.

"Whatever you say."

oOoOo

We fight our way through the rapidly worsening snowstorm on the way to the Special Ability classroom, wading through the six inches of powder that's already accumulated on the ground. This is the one time when I'm thankful for the stupid-looking boots that are part of our uniform. When we force the door shut, Tsubasa's ankles are soaked and he has to dump the water out of his shoes (meanwhile, however, my knees knock together as they shiver). As he complains that his feet are turning into icicles, my gaze shifts over to a growing knot of people over in one corner.

"Hey," I shout, pushing my way to the front. "What's going on?"

In the eye of the storm are two cowering kids. I recognize one as the new amplification kid (I remember because Tsubasa was joking for a week about the possibility that she could be some illegitimate child of Tono's), and think the other might be a weather alice. They shrink back against one corner, the shorter of the two weeping copiously behind a curtain of dark hair.

"Are you fucking serious?" yells Megane from my right. "All this," he gestures wildly in the vague direction of the door, "is because of a couple of stupid kids?" The crowd concurs at a similar volume, and the poor girl collapses into another fit of tears. Then it hits me what's going on.

"Move over, will you!" I assume my most authoritative pose: hands on hips, jaw set, left eyebrow raised (an art I've spent years perfecting). Usually, these kinds of moments when I get to yell mercilessly at someone for being the cause of my irritation are fun, or, at the least, interesting. But, normally, the said irritating person is a teenage boy (namely, Tsubasa). Tsubasa, normally, is not a five year old. My expression turns into a softer one, and I smile softly.

"We… we d-didn't mean to…" sniffles the slightly braver-looking one, rubbing at his eye. "It just... happened, an' we couldn't stop it..."

I bend down and give them both a hug, to the general disappointment of the pissed-off masses. I guess kids just get to me.

oOoOo

When someone attempts to open the door once class is over, a miniature avalanche cascades into the room. The conditions outside are deemed hazardous, and the inevitable panicking begins.

"Misaki-senpai!" gasps Mikan. "We're not going to be stuck in here forever, are we?"

"You know what, kiddo?" interjects Tsubasa, ruffling her hair. "There's something really cool about snow. It melts." she giggles, and rearranges her ponytail, and he continues with the slightly less-than-bright side. "But, how long all this'll take to melt, that's anyone's guess."

"Eww…" grimaces Mikan. "I have to take a shower. And, besides, what would we eat?"

"Oh, who cares?" Tsubasa slings an arm around both of our shoulders. "We're stuck in here for who-knows-how-long with no adult supervision at all, and you're worried about showers?"

"You're gross," I groan, ducking out from under his arm.

The hours pass at a snail's pace, and by evening half the class is complaining at random intervals about missing dinner and being bored as all-get-out. Tsubasa and Megane are slumped haphazardly on the floor, playing a pointless game of "I've Never" that involves pretending to knock back a shot whenever appropriate. Mikan is chatting animatedly to a couple elementary kids that I'm not entirely sure know who she is, but are nodding along nonetheless. I'm nearly asleep, resting my head on one of the desks that are rarely used for their actual purpose.

"Hey, Misaki?" I turn my head slowly over towards the questioner (Tsubasa). "Have I ever kissed you? I don't remember?"

"Are you retarded?" My eyes widen in disbelief. "You can't remember whether you've kissed me or not?"

"Well, I know I've never like, actually kissed you, but maybe on the cheek or something stupid. When we were little, you know?"

I sink back into my arms and close my eyes. "No. Never."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." A thought strikes me. "You don't like, remember kissing me or anything?"

"No, I don't, idiot. That's why I told you I didn't remember."

"Oh. Right."

Tsubasa turns back to Megane. "Nah, apparently I've never kissed a girl either," he sighs resignedly.

"Wait, seriously?" Mikan shimmies forward on her stomach, breaking forcibly into their conversation. "Neither of you have kissed anyone before?"

Tsubasa eyes her suspiciously. "Well, then, have you?" She rolls her eyes, shaking her head amusedly. "I've been officially with Natsume for over a year. It's bound to happen."

"You're thirteen. I wasn't even interested in girls at thirteen."

"Sure you weren't." I intervene. "You liar."

He stares at me blankly. "Wait, what?"

"Never mind," I grin maliciously, catching Mikan's attention. "Don't mind me."

"Whaaat?" she whines, turning on the puppy eyes.

"Oh, nothing." Truthfully, it is nothing. I'm racking my memory for any particular embarrassing incident that I can remember well enough to bring up.

"Er…" Mikan remembers what she was going to say before I changed the subject, saving my neck. "I actually turned fourteen last month. I think I'm perfectly authorized to go around kissing my boyfriend." Tsubasa opens his mouth, but she cuts him off. "And don't you _dare _say you weren't into girls at fourteen."

"What's she got on you at fourteen, exactly?" I wonder, fixing him with a glare. "What have you been getting up to if you've never kissed a girl?"

"I think it's more about what he's getting up to because of what he _hasn't _been getting up to, if you catch my drift," Megane offers with a smirk.

"No." I say, hoping he's not talking about what I think he might be talking about. "I don't catch your drift."

"Well, what do you think lonely guys do… like, alone, in bed…"

Mikan and I let out simultaneous noises of disgust, and Tsubasa's face reddens in incredulity.

"What on earth possessed you to say that out loud?!" he exclaims. Megane grins sheepishly.

"Well, now that Tono's gone somebody's got to fill in his spot. We've got the new kid with his alice, and now we've got me to start awkward coed discussions about masturbation."

"That was uncalled for," I sniff disapprovingly. Tsubasa and Mikan nod in agreement.

"I see," says Megane. "I'll keep the Tono-ness to a minimum from now on, shall I?"

I scoff. "Yeah, good plan."

"Alright!" Mikan claps her hands brightly, and we all turn back to her. "New topic!"

Eventually, it gets to the point when everyone realizes that it's past midnight and sleep would be a good idea. There is a minor drawback, however. As the academy doesn't much plan for these types of situations, they haven't had the foresight to supply us with beds, blankets pillows, or anything of the sort. All we've got are a few desks, several mismatched chairs, an assortment of random unhelpful objects, and a hardwood floor. Mikan pushes a few chairs together in an attempt to fashion a makeshift bed, but finds her legs too long for it.

"Looks like shorty's not so short anymore," Tsubasa grins. "C'mere." He motions for her to come down next to him on the ground, and she snuggles into his shoulder. I smile vaguely, and they both roll over to stare at me curiously.

"What?"

"Look, Misaki, if you make a pedo joke I'll hurt you."

"I'm not going to make a pedo joke. You guys are just cute."

"That can be considered a pedo joke, you know."

"Hey," interjects Mikan. "Can you two stop saying 'pedo' and go to sleep already? I'm tired." She drags out the word "tired" like she's stretching out a rubber band, then snaps back to wish us "g'night."

"G'night," Tsubasa chuckles back.

oOoOo

The sun streams in through a crack of light at the top of each window. I rub my eyes drowsily and stretch out my back, then sit up to check out the current situation. The entire class is spread out on the floor, several of them snoring gently. It comes to my mind how that's such a comforting sound, but then I wonder why I would need to be comforted anyway.

I'm the only one awake, save for a couple of elementary students in the back who are partially hidden behind an old scrapbook. I figure I ought to go back to sleep, but a knock at the door interrupts my train of thought.

_A knock? Who the hell could be out here in all this snow?_

For curiosity's sake, I answer it. I find myself staring down at a breathless Natsume Hyuuga, a trail carved in the four-and-a-half-foot-high snowdrifts behind him.

"Harada," he manages, in a slightly disappointed tone.

"Natsume?" Mikan appears at my side, startling me. Most of the class is now awake as a result of our unexpected guest. "Why are you here? _How _are you here?"

"They rounded all the heat-producing alices up to melt a trail through all this shit," he gasps, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm meant to find out why the Special Ability class mysteriously disappeared."

"It can't have been just us who stayed back," insists Tsubasa indignantly from my right. "There's snow all over the place, they can't expect anyone to be able to get around!"

"Well, that's why I'm here, isn't it? Now get out before they wonder where I've gone too."

"Natsume, come sit down," Mikan suggests, forcing him down into a chair and ignoring the "I'm-perfectly-fine-now-quit-worrying" look he's intent on sending her. He watches, his eyes narrowed, as the class begins to file out and marvel at all the snow.

oOoOo

We wind through the twisting labyrinths between the buildings after breakfast, on our way to math. I entertain myself by dodging the numerous puddles, but Tsubasa just kicks through them, a curiously miserable expression on his face.

"So," I start. "Is it this way, or that way?" He doesn't answer, just veers over to the left. I follow in confusion.

"Hey," I say, as we turn again and I begin to suspect that we might be lost. "What's your problem?"

"Problem?" he murmurs. "I haven't got a problem."

"Oh come on. You could at least smile." He flashes me a half-grin. "That was lame. Now smile, you moron." In a last-ditch effort, I attempt to tickle him. The resulting scuffle sends us both crashing into the wall of snow.

His face is flushed with cold and closeness; his moroseness replaced with widened eyes and parted lips. He whispers my name under his breath, and I know what's going to happen before it does. My fingers clench the fabric of his blazer, but it's all I can do to resist.

The first kiss lasts a hesitant fraction of a second, his lips brushing mine in only the slightest way. As my eyes flutter shut, he presses another, more forceful kiss. Our faces tilt, our foreheads touch, and we both momentarily forget that he's crossed the line.

"What in the hell were you thinking?" I gasp when I come to my senses, pushing him backwards and moving away from the snowbank. "You seriously think you can just do that and get away with it?"

"Goddammit, Misaki," he says. "It… it didn't mean anything, okay. It just—"

"Didn't mean anything?" I interrupt, trying to keep my voice calm but it ends up sounding hysterical. "You just _kissed _me! You jerk, of course it means something! It can't _not _mean anything!"

"Misaki. Be—"

"Be what?" I yell, bordering on furious tears. "Be quiet? Be calm? Be reasonable? I," I jab my thumb into my chest, "am being perfectly reasonable!"

"Look," Tsubasa says quietly, his voice noticeably dropping an octave. "It was an accident. Let it go, it won't happen again."

"An accident? Like hell it was an accident!" I rub my eyes vigorously to make sure he won't see me cry. "You are a complete moron, you know that?"

"Yeah," he hisses. "Maybe I am. I've stuck around you for this long."

"Well then," I reply thickly. "You don't have to."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

I wheel around and run back in the other direction, without thinking where I aim to go or accomplish by doing so. Tsubasa stays motionless until I turn the corner, but from behind me I swear I hear an infuriated yell and the sound of something crunching into the wall of snow.

It occurs to me after I've run out of breath somewhere near the dorms that I'm supposed to be in class. That throws me for a loop (even more than I've already been thrown, that is). I've never been one for skipping, but I at least assumed there would be a thrill of some sort. Perhaps there would be, I suppose, if this happened at any other time but this one.

_Oh, screw it, _I think, and keep on running.

I 'm completely distracted and barely know where I'm going. I turn the wrong way down the hall and before I can rectify the mistake I am forced to duck down the nearest staircase when I hear footsteps turning the far corner. Finding myself on the ground floor, I think fast.

_What's down here, anyway? _The obvious answer surfaces immediately: Tsubasa's room. Due to the circumstances, however, it seems like hardly the place to go. So, I settle for second best. I dash towards the third door on the left, lift the nameplate off the wall, and take the key that's stuck there with a strip of turquoise duct tape. Once inside, I resist the temptation to throw myself down on the bed and sob for once. Instead, I sit at the cluttered desk and continue a half-finished game of solitaire to take my mind off things.

oOoOo

He opens the door, and promptly backs up against it with a shout. I look up from his Gameboy, watching in amusement as he rakes a hand through his short hair.

"What?" I ask, though the word is slightly muffled by the half a pack of Pocky sticking out of my mouth.

"Jesus, Misaki! Have you been in here this whole time?"

"Yeah," I say. "Is that a problem?"

"Uh, no, I guess," Megane replies uncertainly. "But, um, why are you in here, exactly…" His eyes travel over to the wrappers left on his bed. "Fucking shit, Misaki! You got into my candy stash! What is _with_ you today?"

"I got hungry."

"Whatever," he groans exasperatedly. "I meant, why have you been in my room for the last three hours instead of in class?"

"Well," I begin vaguely. "So, there was this thing with Tsubasa."

His eyes widen. "What did he do? If it involves sexual harassment I swear I'll—"

"Chill, it's not like he raped me." I roll my eyes. "Well, not _exactly._"

"Not exactly?" He raises an eyebrow skeptically. "How can someone _not exactly _rape you?"

"See," I pause to chew another mouthful of Pocky. "He decided that randomly kissing me was the right thing to do."

"He kissed you?" His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Well, did you want him to?"

"No, I can't say I did. Otherwise I wouldn't have completely freaked out, screamed a lot, then run over here and eaten all those snacks you keep in your closet." Megane sets down his bag, and moves over to give me a hug.

"He's so stupid," he says as I rest my chin on his shoulder.

"So the pot called the kettle," I reply. "Haven't you got lunch, anyway?"

He chuckles cheerfully. "Well, there's an emotionally distressed girl in my room, and normally, that'd send me running, but since it's you, I think I can do without an extra thousand calories." He pauses. "You're not going to cry, are you? 'Cause if you do, then I'll go for lunch anyway."

"I would have a few hours ago, but now I'm over it."

"Over it?" he says in surprise. "I know you. You don't just get over it."

"Donkey Kong works wonders." I gesture at the abandoned Gameboy.

"Look, Misaki. I know for a fact that you didn't speak to Tono for almost a month that one time he grabbed your chest, even though it was totally an accident. And, I take it this wasn't an accident."

"I never said anything about talking to Tsubasa. I just said I was over it."

"Well, what does 'over it' mean in your world?"

"That I've accepted that my former best friend is a douchebag that I've been wasting my time with for the last ten or so years." Megane noticeably rolls his eyes. "What?"

"Doesn't that seem a tad harsh?"

"Nope."

"I mean," he says. "He's only been in love with you since, like, the seventh grade. So, now that he finally tries to make a move, you're just going to crush his fragile soul and never speak to him again. Real considerate, bitch."

"Hey," I protest. "You're supposed to be on my side here. And besides, he's not '_in love' _with me. He's just…"

"Completely smitten, yes." Megane narrows his eyes at me. "Please tell me you're not one of those people who don't believe in love."

"This isn't a fucking fairytale," I say. "This is high school. He can't seriously be expecting to find his true love or whatever."

"Cut him some slack, Misaki," he sighs. "Haven't you ever really really really liked a guy so much you thought you were going to explode?"

"No, not that I know of."

He sighs again. "Then you're not going to get it, and there's no use trying to explain. But, the point is, he's stuck by you for _years_, and you're just going to end it over something stupid that he only did because he loves you."

"Will you stop saying he loves me?" I choke, ignoring the growing lump in my throat. "It's making me feel like a bitch."

"Well, you are kind of being a bitch," he says. "Oh, fuck, Misaki, don't—" I burst into tears. He folds me in his arms again, and lets me sob shamelessly on his shoulder.

"I thought you said you weren't going to cry," he murmurs at the top of my head.

"So did I," I manage. "I need to look at the bright side. There has to be a bright side."

"Bright side? There is no bright side!" Megane chuckles ruefully. "He's gone and worked you up into tears somehow, and now I'm the only one of us who's never kissed you."

"What did we decide about Tono-ness?" I mumble thickly.

"Oh, that was all me, chicky," he laughs.

"You're right," I say. "Even Tono wouldn't call anyone 'chicky.'"

"Don't criticize my vocabulary, chicky." I can't help but laugh.

oOoOo

I return to class after lunch break is over, and slide into my seat without making eye contact with Tsubasa. He's not expecting me to try, so it doesn't matter. I flinch when I accidentally brush his arm, and he jerks away nervously and hides behind a textbook. My hair falls as I lean forward, and divides me from him; me from everything.

We don't speak for nearly two weeks. This silent treatment has only one strict rule: No acknowledgement of any sort that the other exists. Our agreement is unspoken, but unsteady. I've caught him watching me, and caught myself watching him. It strikes me that this is the longest we've been apart since he arrived at the Academy, back when I was barely four years old. While I'm preoccupied with the past, I don't notice when he's absent in the present.

As per usual, I can't hate Tsubasa for long. Sometimes he straight-up apologizes even if he doesn't know what he's done wrong. Sometimes he pulls some stupid stunt, or buys me something that's supposed to be nice. This time, he shows up at the Academy gates on a Sunday night after the snow has melted; bleeding and unconscious, in the arms of a hysterical Nobara Ibaragi.

oOoOo

He turns over in his sleep, moaning softly and burying his head in his pillow. Before his face disappears, I see him glance up at me briefly and close his eyes again. I check the wall clock. This has been going on for over an hour.

"Oh just get up already. I know you're trying to get me to go away. I won't, so you may as well stop it."

Tsubasa groans without moving. "I would have the first time you asked; with the multiple uses of the word 'bastard,' I could hardly resist. The thing is, I don't want to lift my head because it hurts like hell."

"If you can string together a coherent sentence, you can sit up. Now do it."

He pushes himself up, rubbing an eye lazily and wincing in pain. "You happy now?"

I shove him violently backwards, his head coming within an inch of the metal headboard. "What on earth were you thinking? I thought we went over this. You weren't supposed to scare me this way ever again." He scrunches up his eyes in anguish and shrinks into the covers.

"Misaki, I thought we went over this. You weren't supposed to hurt me this way ever again."

"We never said anything about that, you bastard, and don't try to be funny, because you won't be." I soften slightly as he reaches up to pat his head gingerly. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"Oh my god." I extend a hand out to touch his arm. "I made it worse, didn't I?"

"I'll live," he mumbles, moving his arm away. "I'm pretty good at doing that, apparently." Tsubasa pauses, and the silence between us becomes suffocating. "I take it you're talking to me again, then."

I brush back my hair anxiously. "You're sitting in a hospital bed after hurting yourself in who-knows-what horrible way, and you're worried whether I'm talking to you or not?"

"Well… yeah."

"You need to sort out your priorities. When my attention comes before your health on the list, you know you've got a problem." I rest my chin in my palm, fixing my eyes on a spot above his head. "Next time I get mad at you, you'll go jump off a cliff."

"No I won't," he assures me. "Or, maybe I will, if you'd be there when I woke up." We stare at each other blankly for a moment before he backtracks. "Never mind, I take that back. Too corny."

"Yeah," I agree. "Are you done, or would you like to try another ridiculous pick-up line?"

He sighs hopelessly. "I'd take you up on that, but it's not like it would work. Evidently, girls are not my strong suit. Scratch that, it's pretty much just you that isn't my strong suit."

My hand finds its way into his, and he doesn't pull away this time. "You really are in love with me, aren't you?" I murmur, staring down at our tangled fingers. He grins mirthlessly.

"Took you this long, did it?"

"Normally, it'd be you who'd be afraid to admit it," I say.

"I never did admit it," he replies. "Everybody just knew. Apparently I'm not very good with subtlety."

"No kidding." I look him in the eye. "Why did you kiss me that day, anyway?"

He squeezes my hand, but I'm not sure he realizes. "I don't know," he says. "The opportunity presented itself."

"You moron," I scold. "You could have at least asked me first."

"But you would have said no."

"You never know," I say, my voice the quietest it's been so far. However, in the silent room, he still hears.

"Oh yes I do." He rolls his eyes. "If you'd have said yes, then you wouldn't have yelled hysterically and run away."

"Maybe you're right." I smile slightly but get the feeling I probably shouldn't. "But, you know what?"

"What?" he asks, confused.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"I don't know; whatever you want. Yes."

"Misaki, I still don't get it." I blink in surprise. He's closer than he was ten seconds ago.

"I'll be your girlfriend, if you want."

"Want?" Tsubasa watches me, slightly dumbstruck. "Of course I want. But this isn't about me."

"I don't follow."

"I'm not going to guilt you into doing anything you don't want to do. You can't just do this because you're sorry for me or you don't want to hurt my feelings or whatever you're thinking right now."

"Are you crazy?" I say, taken aback. "Goddamn, you know what? Just be selfish for once. I've been being selfish since forever, and you deserve to think of your fucking self at least once!"

"Misaki," he whispers. "This is my problem. It's got nothing to do with you."

"It's got everything to do with me! If I was never here, then you wouldn't be in this mess."

"I beg to differ." He gestures at the cast plastered on his ankle. "I'd be in this mess still, just without you to come and yell at me for thinking of your feelings. By the way, isn't that generally smiled upon by civilized people?"

By this time, I've had enough. I push his back into the pillows, closing my hands around his wrists. "Look," I state, simply and clearly. "I am going to do this whether you want me to or not, so shut up and let me."

"So," Tsubasa says, turning red when his voice cracks. "Are we like, together now?"

"Yeah."

"Just like that? What do we do now?"

"Will you just be quiet?"

"Right, sorry." He yawns widely, and I let go of him abruptly.

"You should probably, um, sleep." I get up to leave, but turn back around on a whim. Leaning close, I hesitantly press my lips to his forehead.

"Stupid," he murmurs, taking my face in his hands and guiding it down to kiss me gently, sweetly. "That's not how you're supposed to do it."

oOoOo

Nobody notices for a week. It's not until ability class on Saturday that Megane ("I so told you that you wouldn't hate him forever," he said, the Monday back in class) happens to be watching when Tsubasa wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind.

"Hey," Megane demands, his pointer finger wavering from Tsubasa's face to mine. "What's going on here?"

"Uh, I'm hugging my girlfriend." Tsubasa's arms tighten possessively.

"You're _what _now?"

"Oh…" I look over at Tsubasa. "Did we forget to tell people?"

He shrugs. "Must have."

Megane bursts into peals of raucous laughter. "Oh, I _so_ knew this was going to happen. I so called it!"

"Er, no," I correct. "You didn't call it."

"I called in my head," he protests.

"You're a couple now?" gasps Mikan, bounding up to us. "'Bout time. Congratulations!"

"Hey, thanks," I laugh, reaching out to ruffle her loosely curled hair.

"I really wish you guys would stop doing that," she groans. "Natsume's taking me out after class ends."

"Natsume's taking you out?" Tsubasa interrupts. "I thought he 'didn't do' dates."

"Yeah…" she trails off in thought. "I'm a little bit scared."

"It'll be fine, kiddo. He likes you more than life. He won't do anything horrible."

"Yeah, I trust him," Mikan giggles. "So, you planning on taking Misaki-senpai out anytime soon?"

"I don't know," Tsubasa answers like I'm not here. "I don't really do dates."

"That's because no one's ever asked you, stupid," I tell him.

"You asked me."

"Wait," interjects Megane. "It was Misaki who did it?" he throws his head back in laughter. "Didn't see that one coming."

"What's so funny?" I question.

"Nothing, nothing." He pretends to raise a glass, apparently toasting us. "Cheers to you my friends. May this be a long, wild sexy ride. And should that ride ever end, you can pass her off to me." I punch him in the arm. The nerve.

* * *

Well, this was confusing. What with Tsubasa being all moody and with Misaki being bipolar (she's... um... PMSing, okay) and with Megane the characterless character actually having a character, even I'm not sure quite what's going on in their heads.

I'm still a little fuzzy on the details of chapter four, as it just went through an extreme plot makeover, so it might take a while. After that, I've pretty much got things planned out, so it should be smooth sailing from then on out.

Cheers,

-TCATB (because my actual penname is long and annoying).


	4. Love and Stuff

Well, this took a while. if anyone was actually out there waiting for an update, I'm sorry for slacking. I suppose that's what slackers such as myself are meant to do, though.

Oh, why must all my work get done at four in the morning? Thank god I've got school off tomorrow (actually, it would be in about a few hours, but I'll disregard that for now).

Hm. Thanks to .Sympho. for... Well, I don't know what for, exactly. For being generally inspirational. I feel like I've got to mention her somewhere.

I think I've made it clear that I own nothing.

* * *

**_Tsubasa, 2007_**

I figure I should just be happy with where I am. I mean, I'm doing okay, all in all. No major problems, no imminent doom, most people would be happy just for that. I've got nothing to complain about.

Sadly, I'm one of those people who always has "something to bitch about," as Misaki would put it. Apparently, I've got to have a problem with everything. It sounds pessimistic, but it's not. It's not that there's a bad part to everything, but that everything can always get better.

Still, this whole mindset can be a right pain in the ass.

"Tsubasa," Kaname says from his futon on my floor. "It's your turn."

I flop back onto the pillows and sigh overdramatically. "Life sucks."

He knows my attitude has nothing to do with my crappy luck in our card game. "I thought you were past your "life sucks" stage." He grins in that way that probably isn't intended to come off as pitying but does anyway. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," I mumble. "Whatever." I pick up a card and toss it on the discard pile without looking.

He places his hand on my shoulder and I shrug it off, but feel like a bit of a jerk when he retracts it with a hurt expression. "Sorry," I apologize hurriedly. "It's nothing."

For some reason he can't wipe that stupid sympathetic smile off his face. "It may be something trivial and stupid, but it can't be nothing. What's going on?"

"You'll laugh."

"Have I ever laughed at you?"

"Yes."

Kaname shook his head. "When you were trying to be funny, not when you had a stupid problem. And trust me; you've had a lot of stupid problems. But don't change the subject."

I take a deep breath. Here goes.

"Well, the other day, me and Misaki were just walking along, you know…"

"Misaki and _I_" he nitpicks.

"Whatever. So, I was looking at something and I walked into a tree and fell on my ass. Instead of being all 'Oh, do you want a hand?' or 'Oh, are you okay?' she started laughing and said, and I quote, 'Man, life's a bitch, huh?'" I go back over what I've just said, and realize how pathetic I sounded.

Kaname is silent for a moment, but finds something to say eventually. "Is that… all?"

"Well," I say, a little indignantly. "Does that sound like a healthy relationship to you?"

"I can't say it does," he admits. "But does that surprise you? When have you ever known Misaki to act all 'Oh, do you want a hand?' You've always been like this, haven't you?"

"That's exactly the problem," I explain, staring at the ceiling. "We're supposed to be more… boyfriend-and-girlfriend-y."

"I see…" Kaname bites his lip in a way that makes him look a little too girlish for my taste. "So, how exactly does one act 'boyfriend-and-girlfriend-y'?"

"I dunno... But things were supposed to change."

"How did you expect your life to change, then?"

"You sound like a therapist, you know."

He smiles charmingly. "Step into my office."

"Kaname," I groan. "I'm not up for this."

"Well, then," he asks. "What am I supposed to do?"

I slide off my bed and sit cross-legged on the too-short futon. "You're supposed to tell me it's all in my head."

"The thing is," Kaname says, "I don't think it is."

I choke a little bit on something that's probably air. "Sorry?"

Now, Kaname may act like life is full of happiness and rainbows and smiling little children, but he has this thing with really bringing my mood down. It's not just that depressing cloud of "I'm gonna die" that seems to float around behind him no matter what he does, but he's also honest to a fault. Go on. Keep talking. I dare you. We'll see if you're right.

Now, I'm not going to tell him that. I'm not _that _much of a jerk.

I'm just stupid.

"Um…" I cough. "Do explain."

I think Kaname knows he probably shouldn't have said anything, but figures he can't go back now. "I just… don't think Misaki-chan is quite a hundred percent into this."

"What do you mean?" I say defensively. "She's the one who insisted on it. Wouldn't let me say no."

"That's because she didn't want to hurt your feelings," he replies, staring down into his lap and picking at the corner of one of his cards.

I cough indignantly. "I told her what I wanted didn't matter. She wasn't like obligated to ask me out or anything. She completely ignored everything I was saying."

"I'm guessing she felt like she_ was_ obligated," Kaname says, continuing to not meet my eyes. "I think she felt like you deserved it."

"Deserved it?" I repeat confusedly. "What on earth have I ever done to deserve it?"

"Well, that's what you told me she told you."

I gape at him. "That was months ago! How do you remember these things?"

"I don't know, but that's not the point." Kaname finally looks up. "Alright. What if suddenly decided to tell you that I had been in love with you all these years." He pauses, his eyes narrowing pointedly at me. "Or suddenly decided to kiss you, which is probably worse."

It takes me a while to figure out what I'm supposed to respond. After a brief awkward lull, I settle for "But, you're not, right?"

He rolls his eyes. "No, I'm not. But, the point is, could you reject me?"

I don't say anything. I suppose it's for the best, because anything I could think of to say wouldn't change the fact that he's just pretty much told me that my first real relationship (and I'm a little late on the spectrum with that, anyway) is pretty much based off of pity.

Kaname chooses this moment to break the tension (uncomfortably, of course). "I can see your hand, you know."

I slump down until I'm flat on my back. "Doesn't matter, my hand's shit anyway." I toss my cards into the air like confetti. One boomerangs back and hits me in the eye. "Damn," I curse at the ceiling fan. "Misaki was right. Life _is _a bitch."

Kaname motions for me to get up. I oblige. "Come on," he says, pulling me into a hug. "It'll turn out fine. You'll see. It always does."

"Oh yeah," I challenge. "Name one time when it's 'turned out fine.'"

"Well, I could've died a good five years ago, but I didn't, right?" He chuckles, and I push away, horrified.

"Only you," I murmur, shaking my head. "Only you could joke about death like that."

"Oh," he says. "Was that joking? It was perfectly true."

Unbelievable.

As if on cue, he convulses, each cough sending violent spasms through his body. It doesn't seem possible that a noise like that could come from a person so small, so frail, so… Kaname.

He assures me that he's fine. I hope to god or whoever's in charge that he's right. I wouldn't count on it. Whoever's up there has made it pretty clear I'm not on their good side.

oOoOo

"Good morning," Misaki greets me over breakfast the next day. "Anything interesting happen recently?"

"No," I sigh. "Not in particular." I watch her for a little longer, but she's preoccupied with spreading the precise amount of jam on her toast and hasn't looked at me once.

"Hey, you need something?" Misaki narrows her eyes at me.

I reach around her and grab a piece of toast from her lopsided stack. "Nah."

She catches me by the wrist. "Get your own toast, thief."

"Sharing is caring," I quip, crunching on my stolen slice. Misaki rolls her eyes, motioning for a small cluster of first-year high-schoolers down the row to send over the platter piled with toast. "Why am I even _with _you?"

"Don't ask me," I say. "I never knew."

"Give me a reason, then." I can't tell if she's serious or not.

I incline my head slightly, hoping she won't take it in some weird way. "Because I love you?"

She appears to interpret it as sarcasm. "Cute," she scoffs, snatching the bacon I've just helped myself to.

Misaki goes missing sometime in the afternoon; Kaname's off with his friends from the Technical class. I'm left to wander the grounds aimlessly. Nothing of interest is going on, apparently, so I give up on the prospect of doing anything and flop down in that shady spot behind the middle-school building where the grass is always overgrown. I'm forced to settle for this; last time I tried climbing into a tree, I broke my wrist when my branch snapped.

"Well, that's what you get for being so tall," Misaki scolded me afterwards. ("How would you know? Not from experience," I responded. I'm starting to get why she's on the fence about me.)

I look up at the sky. All of it I can see is the same uninterrupted, solid blue. Suddenly, I realize how incredibly boring this actually is. It's unbelievable how much time I can waste just sitting around and doing nothing. I try and force myself to think about something, but my mind is resolutely blank. Inevitably, I start to mull over my problems. Again. This really shouldn't be such a big deal.

The long grass blows in my face, and I sneeze. Fuck this. I stalk off to the Special Ability room.

oOoOo

There's a shitload of useless crap in the bottom of one of the bookshelves; I busy myself with sorting through it. I'm not quite sure what most of this is doing here, to be honest. I've just turned over a bright crayon kid's drawing by god-knows-who when the door creaks open and I hear an unmistakable giggle.

"Oh," Mikan gasps, surprised to see me huddled dejectedly in a corner. "I didn't know people were in here." She's got Natsume by the hand.

I look up blankly. "Please tell me you weren't coming in here to make out." She blushes and opens her mouth, but I cut her off before she can say anything. "Really, I'd rather not know."

"No! We weren't! I'm serious!" she stammers as I start to laugh.

"Just kidding," I chuckle. I hope Natsume buys it, because he looks about ready to bite my head off.

Mikan hops up onto the nearest desk, swinging her legs and pulling her boyfriend over. "So, what are you doing here?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Nothing else to do, I guess."

"Why don't you go hang out with your girlfriend," Natsume suggests, a heavy hint of "go away" in his voice."Then you could leave us alone."

"If you know where she's gone off to, let me know," I retort, carrying the same tone. He scoffs, and I stand up, attempting to work my height to my advantage. A good six inches has nothing on Natsume, apparently.

"Why? You can't even keep track of your own—"

Mikan glares reproachfully at Natsume, silencing him instantly. "Really, you two, stop it. Why can't you just get along?"

"It's him that can't be civil for three seconds!" I point out defensively.

"Tsubasa-senpai, you're acting like a five-year-old." Natsume rolls his eyes from behind her back, smirking. Mikan turns around and pokes him in the chest. "You too! Can't you act your age for once?" She turns her attention back to me, smiling merrily as if she hadn't just totally told me off. "So, how are things going with Misaki-senpai, anyway? Usually she'd be with you."

Mikan's cheerful expression becomes that unbelievably maddening one of sympathy when I hesitate to answer. "Did you… fight, or something?" she asks.

"Wouldn't be surprised," Natsume says under his breath.

I ignore him. "Not exactly."

"Not _exactly_? Well, what happened then?"

"Nothing happened!" I backtrack, not particularly wishing to spill my guts with Natsume present.

"Come on," she presses. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Really?"

"Nothing."

She rests her chin in her hand, staring up at the ceiling in the classic "thinking" pose. After a few seconds, she straightens up. "You know what we should do?"

"Do I want to?" I respond, somewhat tactlessly.

"Of course you do," she commands. "We should go on a date! A double-date! You and Misaki-senpai and me and Natsume! Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Fun" would be one way to put it.

"No," Natsume and I chorus flatly.

Mikan pouts stubbornly. "Pleeease?"

I look at Natsume, and he meets my eyes with an expression that practically screams what I'm thinking: "_This is not going to end well."_

oOoOo

"You should have worn a tie," Mikan scolds.

"I'm wearing a t-shirt," I say confusedly.

"I think it would have been cool if you'd worn a tie. A tie with a t-shirt would go with your whole image, you know?"

I raise my eyebrows. "What's my image, exactly?"

"Don't wear a tie," Natsume interjects blandly, picking at the hem of his jacket. "You'd look like an idiot."

"Exactly." I nod enthusiastically. "Thank you." He doesn't bother with a "You're welcome."

Misaki descends the stairs behind us, looking generally pissed off. I can tell that she's trying to make it look like she hasn't troubled to look especially good today, but probably spent twenty minutes messing with her hair. I'm about to tell her she looks nice, but she shuts me up with a fierce look.

"Good evening," she says, giving me the once-over. "You look like you just escaped from a gay prison."

What?

I look down at my shirt, a thin v-neck with black and white stripes. Oh.

"Yeah," I groan sarcastically. "Thanks." I'll be thinking that every time I look in a mirror or window or something similarly reflective. Kill my self-esteem, why don't you?

She smiles, but it's fake, of course. "That's what I'm here for."

Mikan looks uncertainly from her to me. "Should we… go, then?"

Do you know what surprises me? In a place the size of Central Town, it's damn near impossible to find a sit-down restaurant where the chopsticks aren't stuck together and wrapped in paper. With all the cooking alices hanging around there, it's surprising that they all opted for snack stands and fast food. Well, except for one. And let me tell you, that guy was smart. Not only does he get a hell of a lot of business (mostly from those starry-eyed, idealistic, romantic-type girls and their poor spineless boyfriends), he also charges a hell of a lot for his food. Thus, making a hell of a lot of money.

The spineless boyfriend always pays, for the record. I'm dangerously close to broke.

"How did you get me to agree to this?" Misaki demands quietly, prodding me in the shoulder. "You know I hate this type of thing."

That's one of the things I like about Misaki. She has this cynical mentality on dates. Apparently, they're too forced and romance should be spontaneous instead of prompted by a fancy outing. This actually works out in my favor very well. Not only am I terrible at all that romantic shit and whatnot, but she's saving me a lot of money here.

I lean my head against the bus window, and heave a sigh. "It's a favor for Mikan-chan, okay? Just go along with it."

"Fine," she mumbles, glancing at Mikan in the seat in front of us and praying she won't hear. "But I still don't see why our first actual date has to involve Natsume."

"And I don't see why you have to complain so much. You could at least try to act like you want to be here."

Misaki is silent for a few blissful moments. But before I know it, she's elbowing me in the side.

"Ouch! Damn, what?"

"What are we even supposed to do?" she asks, her voice now a whisper. Really, we're in a packed but of students. It's not like anyone could hear if you spoke at a normal volume.

"I don't know," I say. "I'm just as romantically ignorant as you are."

"I am not romantically _ignorant_," she protests. "I'm just… well, I don't know." She ignores my smirk, sinking lower into her seat. "But out of everyone we know, does it have to be _Natsume_?"

"Apparently so." Misaki jumps in surprise when the aforementioned jackass cuts in loudly from his seat. "But suck it up, Harada. You don't see me complaining."

Mikan bites her lip, looking to be on the verge of tears.

I suddenly feel undeniably terrible.

oOoOo

This is possibly one of the most awkward situations of my life. It's definitely not the top of the list, but it's pretty damn high up there. Misaki is staring off at a spot somewhere above Mikan's head, tapping her fork softly against her bread plate. Natsume looks as if he'd rather be anywhere than within sight of me. I'm attempting to strike up a conversation and make my kouhai laugh, because she's looking really down. I don't blame her. It's not much fun when three out of four of us don't particularly want to be here.

"Look on the bright side," I tell her. "At least Imai isn't stalking you this time."

"You never know," Misaki points out. "She could have put little cameras in our bread or something." Natsume quietly sets down his roll.

Mikan rolls her eyes. "Come on, guys, I think Hotaru's outgrown that phase. I haven't seen any stands selling pictures of Natsume and Luca-pyon anywhere for a while now."

"You've never seen Pluto, but it's there, isn't it?" Natsume mutters.

Mikan opens her mouth to retaliate, but seems unable to think of anything to say. Our drinks arrive in a swell of silence and the waiter shoots us a suspicious glance. Misaki absently reaches for her lemonade and swirls around the ice cubes.

"So," Mikan begins in spite of the suffocating awkwardness. "What do you think we should do for the Alice Festival this year?"

"It's May, Mikan," Misaki informs her, just in case she's forgotten what month it is. "Isn't that a little early to be thinking about the Alice Festival?"

"It's never too early to be prepared," Mikan replies brightly. "Besides, I needed something to talk about."

Misaki's lemonade touches the table for the first time since she's gotten it. "Well, what were you thinking, then?"

"Hot costumes," Natsume suggests over his water, his glass appearing to be fused to his lips.

Mikan reprimands him and slaps his arm sharply. "Now is _not_ the time to be a pervert."

"I'm a teenager," he replies matter-of-factly with a rare smile (well, a smirk, really). "It's always the time to be a- Ow! Mikan, was that necessary?" He winces at her well-timed whack.

"She takes after Misaki," I note, evidently without thinking at all. "I'm surprised things haven't started going downhill yet."

"Downhill?" questions Misaki. "What, pray tell, does that mean?"

"You know, going down an incline or slope?" I even make a sort of hand motion to demonstrate. Misaki's neck slowly reddens, and I know I really shouldn't have said that.

Fuck, I'm an idiot.

"I know that, you moron," she hisses. "But what point were you trying to make there?"

I can't think of anything to respond, so I just kind of sit there stupidly and wait for this to either blow over or explode. As far as I can tell, it does neither. Misaki stands up and gives Mikan and Natsume her best polite-little-girl smile.

"I think I'm going to go speak to Tsubasa somewhere," she says. I silently curse my inability to read her, which is a bit pathetic after knowing the girl since preschool. I've got no idea what I'm in for.

"Go where?" Natsume asks. It's a fair question, as there's not much of anywhere to go. "You're not going to ditch us with the check, or I'll kill you."

Misaki nods, and then drags me by the arm down the hallway that I assume is where the bathrooms are located. Once satisfied that we're in a sufficiently private-ish spot, she proceeds to back me up against the wall.

Wait, what?

"You know, if you want to change your mind about this, you could just say so."

Oh. "Why would it be me who wants to change their mind?"

"Alright." Misaki presses a finger into my chest and I swear she leaves nail indents. "What's up with you."

"With me?"

"Quit answering questions with questions. It's annoying." She narrows her eyes. "Now, if you could please tell me what the fuck is going on in your head, we could get on with our lives."

"Misaki," I attempt to reason. "All I said was—"

"That's not it." She draws back slightly, and I use the resulting personal space to stretch my arms. "A few months ago, all you wanted was to go out with me. Now, you're acting like you don't want to be around me at all. Not just right now, but lately. Can't you just make up your goddamn mind?"

"You're the one who acts like I'm some sort of… I don't know, but… you know… whatever," I trail off lamely.

"Articulate," she replies scathingly.

"That's exactly it!" I exclaim. "You're mean to me, and..." Fuck this. Why can't I talk?

"So you're mad at me because I'm… mean… to you?" Misaki raises a single sarcastic eyebrow. Damn showoff.

"Well, generally, that's logical, isn't it?"

She shakes her head slowly, smiling slightly. "If you call that being mean, which I'd have to say you're a little _too _sensitive if you are, then why have you kept clinging on to me since elementary school?"

"_Clinging_?" I repeat.

"That's what it's usually called, yes."

"I was not… clinging!" I object indignantly. "I was your friend!"

"So, you can't put up with me now that I'm your girlfriend? If anything, it should make it easier." I vaguely wonder why it's supposed to be easier, but don't question her logic. "Or, if you are so inclined, I suppose we could just go our separate ways and save ourselves the trouble."

"Save ourselves the trouble?" I stare at her in disbelief. "It's no trouble."

"I think it's obviously some trouble," she affirms.

I find myself looking anywhere but at her face. "Misaki," I mumble, "I really like you. I mean, I love you. A lot. And if you don't… feel the same way, then there's no point in doing this just for me."

She laughs._ Laughs_. Of course she laughs.

"Alright." Misaki rests a hand on her hip, her tone serious, but laughter still apparent in her eyes. "Who told you I don't like you?"

"Well," I say. "It was sort of Kaname, but not really… kind of."

For some reason, she looks disappointed. "Damn. I was about ready to put my money on Megane."

Wait a moment. "So, you're really still up for this? You're not like, doing this out of pity or anything?"

"Out of pity? At the beginning, I'm pretty sure I was," Misaki responds bluntly.

"Thanks a load," I sigh sarcastically.

"I wasn't done." Misaki comes closer, and I realize that my back's still flat against the wall. "But now that I've had some time, I'm as close to sure as I'm going to get."

"Yeah, but how close is that?"

"Look, Tsubasa." Misaki presses her hands gently against my chest, the gesture contradicting her businesslike tone of voice. "Despite what you seem to believe, I love you." She falters slightly. "…and stuff."

And _stuff_?

"Sorry, what was that?"

Misaki groans. "Tsubasa, don't make me say it again."

"But you mean it?"

She looks at me with a "well, duh" kind of expression. "I'm not the type to throw around 'I love you's.'"

We stand in silence for a couple of the longest seconds of my life. "So," I ask to break the tension, "am I supposed to kiss you now, or what?"

Misaki's hands slide up around my neck, and she smirks slightly. "That can be arranged."

"Finding gay criminals a turn-on now?" I joke. Her eyes widen comically.

"If you tell me that you're gay after all that, I swear I'll eat you."

"I'm not _gay,_ you idiot, I was talking about when you said… I was just about to… wait a second, you'll _eat_ me? What the hell?"

"Shut up, you," she commands, standing on tiptoes to kiss me.

Alright, so I'll admit I'm not exactly what you would call an expert in the art of kissing. I'm ninety-five percent sure Misaki isn't either, but you'd never be able to tell. She moves in just the right way, somehow managing to slip her tongue several places it's not normally supposed to go, and rational thought goes completely out the window. I lean forward and break for air, only to begin kissing her neck and to wind my arms tighter around her waist. Misaki's fingers tangle in my hair, and she gasps as I turn my attention to her collarbone. I know I shouldn't push my luck, but I can't resist sliding my hand under the hem of her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her stomach…

The door over to our left creaks open and we look up in shock. In front of us is a skinny boy with dripping hands (a spineless boyfriend, most likely) staring at Misaki and I with a slightly dumbstruck expression. He makes a few obscure gestures at the bathrooms and mumbles something unintelligible, then hurries down the hall in the fastest way he can go without looking like he's running.

"Oh, look at us," Misaki laughs, still caught in my arms. "We're going around making out in public and scaring kids. That's how we know we're a real couple."

"Well, what do we do now?" I ask. "We should probably go back before Mikan comes wandering over wondering where we've gone."

"Or we could just make out some more," Misaki points out.

On impulse, I kiss her swiftly on the mouth. "And stuff."

I bet Natsume ends up paying for everything. Hah.

* * *

Originally a short filler chapter, but Tsubasa was too paranoid for my original intentions. Also was supposed to contain a cameo by Nodacchi, but I couldn't find a spot to stick him in.

I was reading over this story, and realized how many little things I hate/want to change. I'm definitely going to edit it once i've finished.

Kaname was in this chapter, and I love him to death. I don't think I got either Natsume or Mikan (or anyone, for that matter) quite correctly in-character, but it's the best I could do.

Next chapter might be a little difficult to write, but I'll have it out as soon as I can.


	5. Sex and Other Distractions

Welcome back, dear readers. I love you.

Was that a bit too forward there? If I scared anyone off, Sorry...

But remember, Reviewers, I love you more. All (counts) seven of you...

Well, that's enough of that. Read on! This first part here's a bit of a flashback, so I haven't randomly switched tenses on you (though I somewhat wish I had. It's annoying for me writing in first person, present tense). This chapter contains a couple references to one of my other stories, _Ungrateful_, but it's not like you need to go dash off and read it or anything.

Oh, and this chapter's title was totally stolen from Bill Bryson, from his fantastic book, _The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid_. Don't own it. That goes for everything else as well.

* * *

**_Tsubasa, 2007_**

We were underneath a tree, sometime in the end of August when you never know exactly what day it is. I think it was evening, but I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference if it had been afternoon. Did we skip lunch? Dinner? Or both? It didn't matter either way, neither of us was hungry.

Misaki rolled over, and pressed unusually gentle kisses up my jaw. I closed my eyes, savoring the blissful moment.

"Vampires," I suggested.

"Most definitely," She agreed.

We were sprawled out in the grass, compiling a list of Things Which Are Overrated and being generally intimate. God, I love summer.

She languorously traced a winding pattern on the skin of my neck. "First kisses."

"You're a cynic."

"You're a romantic." Misaki's hair tickled my chin, and I tried desperately to ignore the fact that I was completely and utterly turned on. "Virginity," she said softly, fingering my collar.

"Was that a come-on?" I asked, mentally beating that part of me that made me ask, and the other part of me that urgently hoped it was.

"You wish," she replied, a faint hint of laughter evident in her tone.

I turned over to look at her. "Do explain, then."

"I don't understand all the hype about it," Misaki said. "If you're going to lose it, then does it really matter who you lose it to? I mean, if you wait for true love and all that shit, you're never going to get any."

I was a bit scared, to tell the truth. "When you grow up," I mused, "you are _so_ going to be in porno."

She jabbed me sharply in the side. "For future reference, that's not something you're supposed to tell your girlfriend."

"Noted."

"And besides," she added. "I'm already grown up."

I raised my eyebrows at that. "According to who?"

"According to me, and according to the law. I'm eighteen," Misaki reminded me. "I can do what I want." She rolled over on top of me, brushing my bangs out of my eyes and kissing me: deeply, slowly, sensually. At that point, I was pretty much in heaven; I was touching her more intimately than I'd ever dared. But still, I was shocked when I felt the buttons of my shirt come loose, one by one.

"Relationships," I gasped, adding to our list. Her lips were trailing down my chest, her hands brushing over places they probably shouldn't. "Love."

"Well said," she murmured, fumbling with the button of my pants.

Now, sex isn't exactly unheard of in the academy. You coop a bunch of kids up until they're twenty, there's no way it won't be. For example, we have Tono, who ended up screwing nearly half the girls in his year (alright, perhaps I'm exaggerating, but he got around), and Mikan's parents (self-explanatory). However, the frequency doesn't make it any less of a big deal (to those of us normal people who don't think like Misaki, that is) and frankly, any less terrifying.

So, I had this intense inner argument. I could let Misaki do what she wanted and possibly have the best experience so far of my life, or I could stop her and wait for god-knows-how long until I was less of a wuss. I ended up going with the latter option. If you haven't realized already, I'm a fucking idiot.

"Misaki!" I reached up and shook her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

She froze, her expression horrified. "Oh my god, Tsubasa!" Rolling off me, she backed away a few feet. "I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and…" -here she buried her face in her hands- "…Oh my god, I _am _going to end up in porno!"

"Hey. Calm down." I sat up and reached over to pat her gingerly on the shoulder. "You don't have to get so worked up about it." I pushed myself closer, and cupped her face in my hands.

"I still can't figure out why I do things like that." She grinned up at me, apparently calmed down. "If you look closely, you're not even all that attractive."

"For future reference, that's not something you're supposed to tell your boyfriend," I quoted back.

"Oh, shut up," she huffed.

We sat there in silence for a few moments, idly watching the leaves wave above us.

"Sex," Misaki said.

"What?"

"Is overrated. Are we still doing that?"

I sighed with relief. "Oh."

Neither of us could think of anything better to do. We kissed until it was dark.

oOoOo

Oh. Completely excellent. I totally forgot. Exams are next week.

My first reaction: Yeah, whatever. I've long since given up trying to do well. All these years I've only been able to barely scrape a pass is because Misaki feels bad for me at the last second and ends up staying up all night attempting to cram all the useless information that our class has learned in the past term into my head. I've taken to giving up and just relying on her.

Well, that, and writing half the answers on my arm. Until I got caught in sixth grade. Ouch.

The teacher's listing off things we're supposed to know, and I get that annual temporary flash of stupidity. "Hey, Misaki." I elbow her in the ribs. "What does that mean?"

"Are you totally out of it?" she whispers. "We were talking about that on Monday!" I can't help but notice the way her lips brush against my ear, and accidentally miss out on whatever I'm supposed to learn about for history.

Man. I _am _out of it.

"Oh, come on," Misaki presses later that morning, during that lazy time just before lunch when you're too hungry to do anything. "You could at least try to study."

I tilt my chair back on two legs. "Is it really going to matter if I know whether or not the square root of abc equals xyz cubed or whatever?"

"Do you have any idea what you're talking about?"

My chair teeters dangerously and I hurriedly steady myself. "Nope."

She tries a new tactic. "If we lived in the real world, these would be college-entrance exams."

"Misaki," I sigh. "We go to what the rest of the world thinks is a high-end school for geniuses. All we have to do is stick that on a resume and we'll be good. Besides, those would be next March."

"Do you have any motivation whatsoever?"

"No motivation to do anything that has to do with academics, at any rate."

"You," she accuses, "are utterly hopeless."

"Ah, you love me anyways, don't you?" I grin. Misaki ruffles my hair like she would a little kid's and I scowl. "Must you really?

She smirks. "You know it turns you on."

The really sad part is she's right.

oOoOo

It's the night before exams start, and I haven't done anything at all. What else is new?

Oh, I know! Misaki is coming over because I invited her, not because she takes pity on me. Actually, probably for both reasons, but that doesn't really matter, does it? Misaki is heading over here. To my bedroom. I am scared out of my mind.

Alright, so we've only been in my bedroom alone at night a thousand times. Big deal? As much as I'd like to say "Yeah, right," to that, this time we're eighteen, dating, and it's practically been proven already that Misaki wants to screw me. Normally, that's something that would make me outrageously, insanely happy. The only problem is, do I feel the same way in regard to her?

OhmygodyesIdo.

But am I going to act on it? Good question.

Haven't I already ranted about this enough? Jesus, I've got one hell of a one-track mind.

I'm interrupted by the door creaking open. Misaki greets me cheerfully, tugging off her boots and tossing her blazer on the floor. As she discards her tie, I start to get a bit uncomfortable. I also can't help but notice that she's locked the door.

"What are you going to do, strip?"

"That's not a bad idea," she smirks teasingly. I assume she's joking until she pops open the first three buttons of her blouse. When she catching me completely losing it, she rolls her eyes and refastens them. "Kidding! I was _kidding_! Geez, can't you take a joke?"

Then, she promptly proceeds to kill the mood by upending her bag on the bed in front of me. "So, where do we start?"

The time passes more slowly than usual. I mean, you know how time flies when you're having fun? Well, I'm cramming all last term's lessons into my head and being sexually tormented. At the same time. It's the things I usually don't notice that are the worst; when she idly sucks on her pen or when she pushes her skirt up a bit to scratch her thigh. Plus, she's trying to teach me something.

What, you ask? No idea. It's gone in one ear and out the other.

"You know what your problem is?" she tells me.

I'm ridiculously horny right now and can't listen for shit? That's what I thought, but apparently there's more.

"None of this relates to you at all. You don't give a damn about the interior angles of a polygon or some guy who turns into a bug one day."

"True," I reply, trying my best to appear coherent. "What do you suggest, then?

"I don't know," she says unhelpfully. Make something up."

I think for a few seconds. "I've got one."

"Shoot."

"So, if you plus me plus bedroom equals sexual tension, then sexual tension plus exams equals what degree of failure? Wait, the sexual tension would have to be multiplied by the time spent in said bedroom… But, that would go up exponentially, wouldn't it?" Alright, so we were getting a bit off-topic. At least this was useful.

She rests her head in her hands, moaning softly. "Oh my god, Tsubasa, shut up."

"Sorry."

Misaki looks up and me and sighs heavily. "Let me ask you this: Have you absorbed anything, anything at all, tonight?"

"Of… course I have," I lie.

Misaki doesn't buy it. "Is it really _that _distracting?" she asks me.

"What?"

"Oh, you know," she teases. "Just my presence."

Really, such the narcissist. "Who inflated your head that much?"

She laughs merrily, flopping back onto my pillows. "You did."

I hurriedly change the subject. "Uh, this might seem like an awkward question, but could you please get out of my bed?"

"I'm not technically in your bed, I'm on it. There's a difference." She throws her arms above her head and stretches out.

The books clatter to the floor with a loud _ka-thunk _as I tug the comforter out from under her. She nearly falls off as well, but manages to get a firm grip on the headboard. "Now, that was rude," she scolds playfully.

"What happened to studying?" I ask, keeping my voice as level as possible even though her skirt's hardly doing its job anymore.

Misaki bites her lip in concentration. "Oh, alright. Where were we?" She spends a few seconds trying to remember, but soon loses interest completely. "You know what? Screw that."

I gape in disbelief "Have you gone completely insane?"

"Probably," she smiles widely. "But you'd better take advantage of it while it lasts."

"Seriously, are you sure you're not drugged or something?"

She sits back up again, grasping my chin firmly. "Tsubasa, you are _way _too paranoid."

Oh god.

All of a sudden, I'm on top of her. Kissing her lips, her face, her neck; working frantically at the buttons of her shirt. When I slide a hand up her smooth, perfect leg, she pulls back.

"I haven't got any idea what I'm supposed to do," Misaki gasps worriedly. "Do you?"

"I figured we'd just make it up as we went along, you know," I say, anxious to just go ahead with it before I can think any more. And I'm the paranoid one?

"Those words are not said often by the successful," she replies in a slightly accusatory tone.

"Weren't you just totally up for this a second ago?" My hand creeps a little higher up her thigh; her fingers knot themselves in my hair and she moans faintly.

"I'm still up for it," she protests. "I just… I don't know… Goddamn it, I don't want to think right now."

"Neither do I," I wholeheartedly agree. "So let's stop thinking and get on with this, shall we?"

She rolls over, trapping me beneath her. "But I'll be staying on top."

I sigh wearily. "Of course you will."

oOoOo

I wake up, completely disoriented, to the sun streaming in through the curtains, to Misaki yelling something about sinks and condoms, and to something colliding with my skull.

"Where, pray tell, did you get this?" she hisses in my ear.

I squint to see the object she's just thrown at my head. "Oh. Tono."

"Tono? Of _course _it was Tono. He sent you _condoms _and they didn't confiscate—"

"Nah," I groan, burying my head back in the pillows."It was a couple years back, before he left."

"I suppose I can take it as a good omen that this'd never been opened, then," she replies, sitting on the edge of the bed. "But why the _hell_, if you've had a box of fucking _condoms _under your sink for over two years, did you not think about it once?" Misaki leans close, prodding me in the chest. "If I get pregnant I am going to rip you limb from limb."

"Wait a second," I mumble, looking around. It finally registers. "We just…"

"If we didn't, why would I be here?" she points out. "Why would I be yelling at you about condoms? Do you regularly sleep naked?" She pauses for a second. "Don't answer that. I really don't want to know."

"Hold on…" I say. "What time is it?"

Misaki gasps, looking around for a watch she's not wearing and the alarm clock that was apparently knocked off the nightstand. "Oh my god."

There's a good amount of banging at the door. It's Megane. "C'mon, you idiot! You've already missed breakfast, and you're going to miss our first test if you don't get your ass out of bed!"

Misaki thoughtlessly reaches out to open the door, but before I can yell, our bespectacled friend is staring at us: Misaki, who's wearing her uniform knee socks and a T-shirt of mine that she probably found on the ground after I tossed it there last week, and me, who's sitting up in bed with what I assume to be some sort of deer-in-the-headlights expression.

Megane lets his eyes travel up Misaki's legs for a moment, then takes a seat on the floor and puts his head in his hands. "Put some clothes on, guys. Please. It's too early for this." Misaki promptly slams the door on him and slips my shirt back over her head.

"Don't _watch_!" she exclaims at me, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What's the problem?" I ask. "It's not like I haven't just seen you naked."

"Men," she scoffs scornfully. I toss her the bra that's hanging off my side of the bed before she can insult half the human race any further.

When we step outside fully clothed, Megane's leaning against the opposite wall. He falls into step with Misaki and me as we rush down the hall.

"Okay, just so everything's clear," he says, "what exactly went on in there last night?"

"What do you mean?" Misaki replies coolly.

"Please tell me you guys didn't do what I think you did," he begs her.

"That depends." Misaki adjusts her bag on her shoulder and hops a few feet as she tugs one boot up. "What do you think we did?"

He gives up and turns to me. "Did you screw her or not?" I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to say in order not to piss off Misaki, so I just cough awkwardly.

Megane takes it as confirmation. "_Du-ude_!" He elbows Misaki in the side. "Well, how was it, then?"

"Honestly, I don't see how that's any of your business." She peers up ahead as we enter the correct building. "Damn, we're late."

We round the corner into the classroom: Misaki edgy, Megane frustrated, and me slightly disheveled and still a bit out of it. Makihara pauses in the middle of passing out the papers, turns toward the doorway, and inclines his head. "And where have you three been?"

"Overslept." Misaki hastens to explain.

"Together?"

She opens her mouth, but doesn't say anything and just kind of stands there. Makihara rubs at his temple, sighing heavily. "Jesus Christ." He looks back up, raising an eyebrow. "All of you?"

"Whoa no!" Megane gasps, jumping away from us and putting his hands up. "Just them."

Someone whistles.

I slide into my seat and slump forward onto the desktop under the inquisitive stares of most of the class. A paper flutters down onto my head.

oOoOo

A week after the whole sex/exams business, we've had some developments.

For one, the entirety of the high school division (and half of the middle-schoolers) managed to find out in less than a day that Tsubasa Andou and Misaki Harada were sleeping together. Mikan couldn't bring herself to look me in the eye for over a day once she heard.

Also, Misaki's not pregnant (Excuse me whileI celebrate: THANK GOD!!!). Every twenty-nine days, without fail for the last seven years, she has proceeded to make my life miserable being all PMS-y and crap, and it doesn't look like that's about to stop. Though, I suppose it would be worse if she was bitching about being fat and hormonal all the time.

And I failed my exams. Was I expecting anything else? Misaki gave me a huge lecture about study habits and all that shit. If I don't pass next term, I'll be screwed.

With any luck, pun intended.

* * *

Well, that was... interesting to write. (cough) Moving on.

Somehow I managed to crank this and my SumireKoko out in three days. I guess I had some huge inspiration blockup after a week with no computer access.

Review! Please?


	6. As Expected

I managed to get this up before chapter five's sixty days timed out in Document Manager. I'm proud of myself.

But, then again, parts of this are so sappy I want to kick myself, so...

* * *

_**Misaki, 2009**_

My God, it's too late (or would it be too early?) for this.

It was one of those nights when you just can't get to sleep and can't explain why. It's not like I'm a regular insomniac. Fine, I'll admit to having spent the occasional sleepless night with a cup of hot chocolate and a good friend or two, and the annual all-nighter with Tsubasa and a few textbooks. But this was the sort of night that has you discarding blankets only to reach for them later, opening and closing the windows, flicking the radio on and off, and just lying in bed noticing how the cracks in the ceiling look a little bit like they could spell something.

I was almost asleep. Almost. And then some idiot had to come thundering down the hall, pound on my door shouting something, and ruin it completely.

And by "some idiot," I mean "Tsubasa."

I could just tell him to fuck off. That's my first instinct. And, now that I look at the clock, which reads 4:26 a.m., it's getting increasingly tempting. The second option is to get up and see what he wants. After a moment's drowsy hesitation, I decide that's the way to go.

Tsubasa's momentum sends him falling in to me when I open the door. He reaches for my shoulders to steady himself clumsily. His face is red and blotchy and I can't tell if he's been crying or not. That's when I start to get worried.

"Wait!" I demand when he pitches the pajama pants I tossed on the ground around midnight at me. "What's going on?"

"Hurry up and get dressed," he commands. "We've got to go. Now!"

I do as I'm told, but don't give up questioning as he drags me out the door. "Where the _hell_ do we just _have _to go at this time of night?" I've got an awful suspicion, but don't have the nerve to bring it up aloud. I feel terrible even thinking about the possibility.

Tsubasa stops short in the middle of the hall, turning back to me. "The teleportation alice who sits behind you in math. What's her name?" he demands.

I attempt to beat some sense into him. "Tsubasa, you can't go waking up random people in the middle of the night just because you won't walk places."

"We haven't got _time_, Misaki!" he shouts, his eyes wild, hysterical.

"Her name's Kaori Minami," I tell him, shrinking back from him quietly. "That room over there." Tsubasa promptly rushes over and, against my protests, begins to hammer loudly on the door.

"Oi, Minami!" he shouts, probably waking more people than he intended to. "Get out here!"

She opens the door, tousled and bleary-eyed. "What the hell's going on? Andou, get out of the girl's dorm."

"Minami," he says. "I need you to take us to the hospital."

And that's when everything I've been dreading falls in to place.

While I step backwards in shock, she leans against the doorframe, yawning. "Give me one good reason why I should."

Tsubasa completely loses it; seizing the collar of her pajama top and forcing her roughly back against a wall. Kaori screams, and several doors down the hall open in alarm.

"Tsubasa!" I gasp, dragging him backwards by his t-shirt. "Put her down!"

"Look," he snarls, backing off but otherwise ignoring me. "I haven't got time to put up with you being difficult. Now take us to the fucking hospital."

She nods timidly. Tsubasa takes my hand and within seconds, the hallway disappears.

oOoOo

We ditch Kaori in the lobby and dash up the stairs to the fourth floor. Tsubasa curses as we narrowly avoid tripping over a cart by rebounding off a wall. He leaves me to apologize to the startled hospital staff that scatter out of our way. When we reach the room we're looking for, the door's already swung open. Doctors and nurses hurry in and out, speaking, hushed, among themselves.

"Oh my God," Tsubasa whispers. I squeeze his hand a little tighter.

Kaname Sono hardly looks human anymore. His skin in so pale and translucent you can see every vein; his hair bleeds into the creamy pillowcase. There is an impossible amount of wires stemming from everywhere, hooked up to machines that do God-knows-what. I've seen him bad, I've seen him terrible, but this is the worst it's ever been. That's when I know, no matter how much I try to convince myself it isn't possible, that he's not going to make it until morning.

His eyes open and he sees us. It seems unbelievable that he could smile at a time like this, but then I remember that this is Kaname I'm referring to. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen him without even a slight smile on his lips.

"Tsubasa," he murmurs, his voice merely a whisper of what it used to be. "Misaki. Nice to see you."

"Nice to see you too," I reply stonily, at a loss for anything else more truthful to say. Tsubasa seems lost for words. I expected him to leave my side immediately, but he stays still, his back rigid and feet firm. All he can do is stare blankly in disbelief at the shell of a person that used to be his best friend.

Kaname motions at us, his hands pale and trembling. "Come here, you two." I go obediently over and sit on the edge of the bed. Tsubasa merely moves a few steps closer, shaking his head as if in denial of the entire situation.

"You crazy son of a bitch" is the first thing out of his mouth, to my utter shock. "What have you done to yourself?"

Slightly crestfallen, Kaname sighs. "Tsubasa, be reasonable." Judging by his actions so far, I don't expect him to obey. However, he nods quietly after a brief moment of hesitation and allows me to take his sleeve and pull him over. I'm surprised by his instant docility, but he's paying me no attention anyway.

Tsubasa takes Kaname's hands in his, staring down at them as one stares at their feet in situations they'd rather avoid. "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I just… Why? Why, Kaname?" He looks up, pleading.

"Why what?"

His voice is quiet and choked now, the complete opposite of the hysteria of a few minutes ago. "Why didn't you stop?"

Kaname takes as deep a breath as he can manage, though the effect is somewhat ruined. "We've been over this too many times to remember, Tsubasa, and, frankly, I don't think we have time to do it again."

"Don't have the time…" Tsubasa stares at him, his words slowly sinking in. "You don't mean…?" Kaname closes his eyes and smiles subtly, confirming both of our unspoken fears.

Tsubasa shakes his head firmly. "You always pull through somehow. Every time. This won't be any different."

"I can't pull through forever, Tsubasa," Kaname replies, his tone surprisingly steady for the things he's saying. "I've been told to say my goodbyes."

"No." Tsubasa pales. "You can't just say your _goodbyes_!"

A faint smile plays at Kaname's lips. "You'd rather I not?"

Leaving Tsubasa with his mouth wide open, he turns to me. "Misaki, we seem to be leaving you out of the conversation."

I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to say, so, like an idiot, I say so. He tries to laugh, but it ends in merely a smile and a brief spasm. "Oh, I don't know," he tells me. "Small talk. It'll make this feel less like a deathbed."

"You're dying," Tsubasa interjects incredulously, "and you want to make small talk?"

Kaname ignores him. "So, Misaki, how did your last math test go?"

"Uh… I got ninety-eight percent," I reply tentatively.

"As expected," he smiles. "And Tsubasa here?"

"Eighty-six, I think it was."

"Not bad, not bad." Kaname sighs, looking over at Tsubasa again. "This is making you uncomfortable, isn't it?"

"I just can't believe we're sitting here talking about my grades at a time like this!" he exclaims.

I can see Kaname roll his eyes ever so subtly. "I see. Should I start on my little farewell spiel now?"

"That's not the—"

He manages to talk over Tsubasa even though his voice is hardly half the volume by this point. "Don't do anything stupid. Oh, who am I kidding, you're going to do stupid things, but try and learn from them, okay?"

"You can't just—"

"Misaki, I just need you to love him," Kaname tells me seriously. "I think we both know he's going to take this harder than he should, and he's going to need you to be there, alright?"

"Harder than I should?" Tsubasa cries, somewhat indignantly. "How hard am I supposed to take it? Goddamnit, Kaname, you're acting like this is nothing! How am I supposed to feel?"

Kaname turns his head towards me. "You see?" I nod stiffly.

"Someone's going to need to go visit Bear every once and a while once you guys are gone, he gets lonely," he continues. "I think Mikan-chan could probably do it, you're going to have to tell her that." He sinks back into his pillows, sighing. "I hope Bear's alright. By now, he's probably sick with worry. One of you'll have to go and tell him that it's all alright, once this is over."

Tsubasa is shouting again. "But it's not all alright!" His face reddens in frustration, and he seems near tears. Kaname smiles understandingly, and once again I marvel at his impossible ability to stay calm in situations such as these.

"Tsubasa, come here." He reaches out a shaking hand to lightly stroke Tsubasa's face, tracing his cheekbone and the sharp line of his jaw. "Stop acting like this is the end of the world."

"It's the end of yours."

"No it's not." Kaname takes Tsubasa's hand again. "It's everyone's world. It's not as if the sun's going to stop coming up every day just because I'm not there to see it."

Tsubasa bites his lip, apparently at a loss for anything to object to. Kaname leans back again, closing his eyes and moaning softly.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Tsubasa chokes thickly. "We were supposed to get out of here, together."

Kaname shudders in weak laughter. "It looks like the only way I'm getting out of here is in a box."

"Don't say that." Though I've stayed mostly silent throughout the exchange, I find fat, uncontrollable tears streaming down my face. Tsubasa wraps his arms around me and pulls me close so I can cry into his shoulder, the first sign that he's noticed that I'm still here.

"You know," Kaname murmurs, half to himself. "I think… I'd just like to rest."

"How can you just give in like that?" Tsubasa asks, so quietly I can barely hear. "After all those years of fighting…"

"Fighting takes a lot out of a person," he replies. "I've done what I wanted to do. I've made people happy, and I can't do anything more meaningful."

Everything is still for a few long moments, until Tsubasa gasps, moving quickly away from me. "Kaname! Oh my God, Kaname, no!"

I look up, silently.

Kaname Sono smiled until the end. As expected.

oOoOo

I still can't clearly remember how we got out of the hospital. Tsubasa wouldn't move, I know that. We stayed at Kaname's bedside for a good ten minutes after. He kept insisting that there must be _something_ that could be done.

I got no sleep at all. I continued tossing and turning for the couple hours until I had to get up. My body felt somehow numb, unusually heavy as I dragged myself down to breakfast only to pick halfheartedly at my food. School passed excruciatingly slow. Rumors flew around me, all about Kaname. It wasn't a surprise, really. He'd always been well-liked. Most of the girls were horrified, the rest of the class quietly somber.

Mikan faced me in the Special Ability room, her eyes red and swollen. "Is it true?"

I nodded solemnly, and gathered her up into a hug so she could cry.

Tsubasa didn't show up to class today. I don't think I expected him to. I knew he was going to be somewhat depressed for a while, and God knows how long it'll take for him to get back to normal again. Who could blame him, really? It's as if he's lost a part of himself. They complemented each other, seemed to fit together somehow. While Kaname kept Tsubasa grounded, Tsubasa kept Kaname free.

Kaname said I was supposed to love him. I'm still not sure just quite what he meant.

oOoOo

I knock twice on Tsubasa's door after class ends. There's no response, but I didn't expect one.

"Tsubasa," I say. "It's me."

"C'mon in," he replies flatly from the other side of the door.

He's curled up on his bed, tangled in his sheets. The shades are down, and it's dark. His radio's on, playing some repetitive commercial. He looks utterly horrible.

I steel myself, forcing optimism. "Rise and shine. You can't spend all day in bed."

"Who's to stop me?" Tsubasa replies from underneath a pillow.

"Me." I yank open the shutters, flooding the room with light. He groans, burying himself deeper in bed. "Oh, come on. Don't be difficult."

As I drag my fingers lightly along the wall to see how much dust they gather, something catches my attention. There's a dent in the wall at shoulder height, broken through in one spot. I move over and take a seat on the edge of Tsubasa's bed, taking his hand and stroking it gently. The knuckles are red and raw, as if from an impact.

"Look," I tell him, trying to inject at least a little bit of lightness in the mood. "Not that it's not sexy and all, but I didn't think you were the type to go around punching holes in walls."

"There's not a real hole," he corrects, and I catch a note of slight disappointment in his voice. "These walls are really well-made."

"Oh, Tsubasa." I lie down beside him and brush the hair tenderly out of his face. "You can't stay like this forever, you know."

He opens his eyes, and we're so close that I can feel his eyelashes flutter. "You could at least give me a day. I've got a right to be sad for a little while."

"We're all sad," I reply. "But we all haven't spent the day in bed feeling sorry for ourselves."

Tsubasa moans quietly, and turns over to stare at the ceiling. "Misaki, distract me. I could really use it right now."

I don't know what I'm supposed to do, so settle for the only thing I can think of off the top of my head. I reach out my hand to turn his face towards mine again and press my lips softly to his. "Does this work?"

He slips his hands around my waist and pulls me closer. "Marvelously."

We kiss until I forget my own name, and Tsubasa forgets Kaname's.

I fall asleep there in what is probably the late afternoon, lulled by Tsubasa's warm embrace and the quiet melody playing on the radio we hadn't bothered to turn off. We lose track of the time, along with everything else. But when I wake, it's to see Tsubasa rolling out of bed, making some sort of troubled sound.

I get up as well, blinking in the light that's streaming through the windows as the sun begins to set. "What's wrong?"

"I can't figure it out," he says, running a hand anxiously through his hair. "Why on earth did it have to be him? It's just not right, it's not fair."

"Life isn't fair," I reply, lacing my fingers with his and caressing his hand soothingly. "I'm sorry, but it's true."

"But of everyone in the world," he continues, "he probably did the least to deserve to die." He laughs mirthlessly, bitterly. "It should have been me." I squeeze his hand, silently trying to think of something Tsubasa's done to deserve death. "Anyone but him," Tsubasa murmurs, moving forward fluidly and burying his head in my shoulder. "Anyone but him."

"Tsubasa," I coax gently. "Kaname wouldn't want you to be like this. I'm sure of it."

He pulls away, but his hands on my shoulders keep me close. "You don't know what he wants, Misaki. Nobody does. Nobody can."

"But I'm sure—"

"Right now," Tsubasa interrupts stiffly. "I don't know how you're sure of anything." Before I am able to think of something to say, he begins to cry, deep, shuddering sobs.

oOoOo

I promise myself that I'll get some sleep tonight, but it's proving difficult. I worry. I worry about Mikan, about Bear, about myself, but mostly about Tsubasa. I was sure that he would be alright, he just needs some time, but apparently I'm not supposed to be sure about anything.

_What do you think, Kaname? You don't want him to beat himself up over this, do you?_

I suddenly feel stupid for talking to someone who isn't going to answer. But at the moment, I can't think of anything else to do.

I can't say I'm a believer in afterlives. I've always assumed that when you die, everything just stops. Your soul doesn't live on. But I hope, for his sake, that that's not true. I hope it's nice, wherever he is. I can't imagine him anywhere else but heaven.

_You don't have any idea how much I'd like to talk to you right now. You were always good at giving advice…_

I know I can't expect Tsubasa to smile soon. He's lost too much too suddenly for that. But I'm scared for him as well. I can't help worrying.

_God, Kaname. I wish you were here. You'd know what to do._

I managed to get to sleep, but I've got no idea when or how. All I know is that it's light out when I get up. When I check the clock, it says it's nearly noon.

I wander down to the dining room for lunch, idly wondering whether Tsubasa's left his room yet. I don't have to wonder for long, he's sitting alone at our usual table, munching morosely on a sandwich.

"You've missed breakfast," he states by way of greeting.

"I hadn't noticed," I reply sarcastically, taking a seat beside him and reaching for an apple in the middle of the table. "You've gotten up."

"Are we going to continue stating the obvious?" he asks. "Or are we going to have an actual conversation?"

"You've hardly seemed intent on conversation."

"I don't know what to talk about."

"Neither do I."

Tsubasa finishes off his sandwich, standing up. "It doesn't make much difference. We've got to go anyway."

"Now wait just a minute!" I protest, chewing my apple. "I've just sat down! I'm getting a bit tired of you dragging me places with no explanation."

"We're going to go meet the parents," Tsubasa explains.

"Your parents?"

"No," he replies simply, as we leave the room and head down the hall. "Kaname's."

I skip a few feet to catch up with his longer-than-usual strides. "Wait, why are they coming?" Tsubasa pulls me along by the wrist as we turn a corner and push open the doors.

"You didn't think they would just…" he trails off for a moment, "leave him here, did you?" I follow silently, becoming gradually more anxious as we get closer and closer to the academy gates. I don't think Tsubasa's especially confident either, but he's doing his best not to show it.

We wait underneath a tree for a while. Tsubasa picks at the grass, absently letting it blow away while intently watching every car that drives by.

"Were you like, actually invited to come meet these people?" I eventually ask.

"Well, not directly," he admits. "I hear things." Before I can respond, he nudges me in the shoulder. "Look, these people are getting out of their car. I think these are the ones we're looking for."

They are opposites. The woman is tiny, with wispy blonde hair waving in soft curls around her face, while her husband towers over her, dark-haired, with sharp features. They approach the curling metal gates with apprehension, looking through them at the place their son had grown up.

"Andou, Harada, if you're so concerned with this, then you could at least get up and come over." We both jump, and look up at a man who had been one of Kaname's doctors. All of them knew our names. He's part of a line of adults who are coming forwards to greet the visitors and let them in.

Obediently, we follow the small knot of people over to the gates, but we stay towards the back. Kaname's mother looks close to tears, but she's the one who shakes hands and smiles politely when the gates open for her and her husband. Words of sympathy are exchanged among them, and then she sees us.

"And who are you two?" she asks, with a small smile.

"We're his friends." Tsubasa extends his hand. "Tsubasa Andou."

"Mitsuru Sono," she replies, taking his hand and shaking it, then turning to me. "And you are…?"

"Misaki Harada," I answer. "I'm very sorry."

"To tell the truth," she says regretfully, "I'm sure you knew him better than I did. I just wish we'd been able to see him, before… But there was nothing we could do." She gazes around at the grounds, then looks Tsubasa straight in the eye. "I'm sure he was lucky, to have had such nice friends."

"I beg to differ, Mrs. Sono," Tsubasa replies. "I think we were the ones who were lucky."

I look around when I hear someone run up behind us. It's Mikan, with Bear in tow. "Sorry we're late," she explains, stopping and panting to catch her breath. "I only just heard."

Kaname's father speaks for the first time, watching the moving bear curiously. "Is it one of his?"

"It was his first one," Tsubasa explains.

Mr. Sono bends down and reaches out a hand, stroking Bear's matted fur. Bear stares up at him with his shining eyes, poking him with a paw. The tall man smiles slightly, and his wife's eyes begin to overflow with tears.

"You don't think we could… keep him, do you?" She asks no one in particular. "I mean, it would be really special if we could."

"What do you say, Bear," Tsubasa chuckles softly. "You wanna go?"

"But he lives here!" Mikan interjects. "He's got a little house and everything! You-chan would miss him to death!"

"You-chan?"

"He loves Bear," Mikan explains. "It's really cute, actually."

"This is its home, Mitsuru," Mr. Sono tells his wife. "We can't take it away." He looks up at Mikan. "Did you say it's got a house?"

"Yeah," she nods. "Would you like to go see?"

"I don't think there's time for that," interrupts one of the several Academy staff who have been standing around watching us for the last few minutes.

"Oh, I suppose we have to go, then," sniffs Kaname's mother after a moment of mournful silence. "Thank you all so much, and it was very nice meeting you."

"You're welcome," Mikan and I chorus, and Tsubasa inclines his head in recognition.

We head back away from the gate after watching them go, arm in arm, aimlessly walking around the lawn. "They were nice," Mikan says, shifting Bear in her arms. "I think he would have liked them a lot, if he'd gotten the chance to grow up like a normal kid." She's silent for a while, then continues. "I hate this whole alice shape thing. It's terrible. I hate how you can't control it, who it affects, what it does." She smiles mirthlessly. "Bad things seem to happen to the people who deserve it least, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Tsubasa mutters, ruffling her hair. "Oh, the irony."

"Hey," says someone from our left in a flat monotone. "Where were you guys?"

It's Megane, looking unusually serious. "Nowhere," I tell him. He pretends he believes me, and falls into step with us.

"I'm really going to miss Kaname-chan," he sighs. "But he seemed fine with dying. I think we should be too."

Tsubasa chuckles, looping an arm around my shoulders and squinting up at the afternoon sun. "Well said."

* * *

The first few paragraphs have been sitting in my documents since April, and I just got around to writing the rest these last few days. This was really difficult for me to write, but I finally got semi-inspired and it came pretty much together.

This was in Misaki's point of view, but I noticed that she didn't really do that much... Sorry, Misaki, dear, I'll make it up to you. Sort of.

Review?


	7. A Beautiful Oblivion

I'm back... Hoorah for me. I didn't procrastinate as much as I did last time, and this is the longest chapter yet. Alright, it kind of fell off the tracks for a bit around the middle, and Tsubasa was spouting a bit too much fluff for my liking, but... I hope you still like it.

I own nothing... Except for Tsubasa's family, I suppose (OCs were a bit necessary, I try to avoid them if possible). But you can have them. I don't really mind.

_**

* * *

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Tsubasa, 2010

Mikan leans forward over the table, sipping gingerly at her hot chocolate and tightening her scarf around her neck. The winter chill has been extremely persistent this year, leaving us all in our hats and mittens in the middle of spring. The metal chairs in the square in Central Town are cold, and the box of Howalons that we have open in between us has been untouched for five minutes straight, which, now that I think of it, is probably a record for Mikan.

She pushes them at me. "Don't be shy."

I push them back. "Personally, at this point, I'm kind of sick of the stuff."

Her hand flies to her chest with an exaggerated gasp. "That's got to be, like, sacrilegious."

I tug my hat tighter over my ears and turn up the collar of my coat as a particularly strong breeze rustles the bags of nearby shoppers. "I've been here all my life. I've had too many boxes of these to count. I'm just kind of tired of 'em."

"You're tired of the whole thing, aren't you?" Mikan conjectures. "The whole place. You want out."

"Of course I want out. I've wanted out for years," I admit. She seems to wilt slightly, biting her lip and staring at her Styrofoam cup. "That doesn't mean there isn't anything I'll miss about it," I hurriedly add.

"Like what?" she asks, smiling softly and tilting her head in a curious way.

"You, for example," I grin.

"You flatter me so, senpai," she replies, rolling her eyes. "Anything else?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sigh. "The food. That one tree behind the middle-school dorms. The people going around flying and shape-shifting and all that alice stuff. The people who I've been around all my life and then suddenly won't be there anymore." I swallow hard.

Mikan fishes out a packet of sugar from her pocket and dumps in into her already oversweet cocoa. "Like Misaki."

I nod. "Like Misaki."

She pushes the box of Howalon back at me. "Have one. They're a good pick-me-up." She's worn me down, and I reach into the box, biting into the delicate candy. It instantly melts in my mouth, and that familiarly warm feeling spreads through my body. I grudgingly add an item to the list of things I'll miss.

oOoOo

"Jesus, woman!" I groan, leaning back to try and pull her up into the tree beside me. "You can try and do something yourself, you know." I nearly slip backwards off the branch when she lets go of my hand to grab hold of a limb above her head. "You're so heavy!"

Misaki glares at me from the branch below. "It's all muscle."

"I was kidding."

She swings back and forth, attempting to find a new foothold. "Whatever you say."

"You could just wrap your legs around that branch you're on, and push yourself up from there," I suggest. "That's how I got up."

"I'd like to climb up without showing the world my underwear, if possible," she huffs frustratedly, her boot slipping against the trunk.

"You're climbing trees, Misaki. It's a hazard. Besides," I add, "it's not the world, it's just me." I lean forward and grin amusedly. "And you haven't seemed to have a problem with that, so…" Sighing heavily, Misaki hooks one leg around the branch, braces the other against the trunk, and deftly pulls herself level with me. "See, was that so hard?"

She brushes leaves out of her hair, too big for the spot in which she'd fit so perfectly years ago. "I've lost my touch."

"Outgrown tree-climbing, have you?" I pick a stray leaf from her shoulder, letting my hand linger a little longer than necessary. "You've just killed my childhood."

"It's just as well," she smiles teasingly. "You're going to have to fend for yourself now. You're going to need to get your own food, get a job; you and I both know you won't be doing any laundry…"

I throw my head back, sighing. "Don't remind me."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine." Misaki punches me lightly in the arm. "Even though this place does absolutely nothing to prepare you for real life, I don't think any of the graduates have turned out total screw-ups so far."

"There's a first for everything," I reply morosely.

She leans casually against the tree trunk. "C'mon. You're really bringing me down here." Her smile falters for a moment. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I wish we were younger, you know? Don't you?"

I raise my eyebrows. "It depends. How much younger?"

"Oh, I don't know, ten?"

I scoff. "No way. Like hell I'd go through all that unrequited love shit again."

"You liked me when we were ten?"

Moving to the left a bit, I lean back and rest my head on Misaki's shoulder. "You know, I can't even remember anymore," I murmur, kissing her jawbone gently. Her arms tighten around my chest, and she laughs.

"You're just like Natsume. What's with you creepy ten-year-olds?"

"I am nothing like Natsume!" I protest. "Did I go around ripping off girl's underwear?"

Misaki smiles faintly, as if remembering a joke that I'm not in on. "And look how that turned out for him."

I clear my throat indignantly. "Look how this turned out for me!" After a brief pause, I chuckle. "I wonder if Natsume's getting any. Don't you?"

I see her roll her eyes from the corners of mine. "Is_ that_ what this is about?"

"Well," I press, "what do you think?"

She considers for a couple seconds. "I doubt it. Does Mikan look the type to you?"

I tilt my head up again, and she shivers as my forehead brushes against her neck. "Do you look the type, then?"

"I don't know," she replies, lightly brushing off the subject. "Looks can be deceiving." We lapse into silence, watching the ground below us. Misaki buries her face in my hair, and sighs blissfully.

"You know," I whisper. "This is just like the old days."

"Which old days were you living in?" she grins. "In what universe would pre-teen me let pre-teen you lay on me like this?"

"Well, putting that aside…"

"Yeah," she murmurs, stroking a loose lock of hair from my eyes. "Just like the old days."

oOoOo

The ceremony passed in a blur. Time's a bitch, I've noticed. It digs in its heels when you want it to go faster, and speeds up when you scream at it to stop. Here I am, under a tree just inside the gates, the people I'd considered my family leaving and my real family's address in my pocket.

I can't understand why I never had any qualms about this when I was younger. If anything, it should be better now. I mean, as you get older, three and a half years isn't such a big deal anymore. But now I've got a seventeen-year-old girl with her face pressed against my chest, and I can't help feeling like a bit of a pedophile.

"Calm down," I coax, patting her awkwardly on the back. "It's not like I'll never see you again."

Misaki pulls her gently off me. "Come here, the idiot has no idea how to deal with girls…" she ignores my look of indignation and continues off my earlier statement. "But he's right."

Mikan sniffles. "I'm going to have to stick it out three more years, though."

"You'll live," I say, in an attempt at a comforting manner. "You'd be surprised."

"This won't do," she replies stubbornly. "There's got to be something we can do. You could teach?"

Natsume scoffs. "Teach what?"

Mikan waves an airy hand at him. "Shush."

I change the subject before she suggests that I live under her bed or something. "I mean, think about it. What's three years?"

"It's the amount of time it takes for the Earth to orbit the sun three times," Natsume interjects. "Idiot."

"No, I mean in the grand scheme of things," I clarify, shooting Natsume a glare. "It'll go by before you know it. And when it does, I'm going to want you to come find me. We'll do lunch, or something. That clear?"

She nods. "Uh-huh."

"Good. Shake on it?"

Mikan grasps my hand and firmly shakes it. "In three years, then."

Tsubasa," Misaki interrupts. "We should probably be going now." Mikan pulls us both in for a last-second hug. Natsume takes her by the waist and pulls her back, and we find ourselves heading towards the main gates.

"He better keep his hands off her," I grumble, sparing a glance back towards Mikan and Natsume.

Misaki scoffs. "You're one to talk."

"You don't complain," I reply airily, pulling her closer and swiftly kissing her cheek.

Someone clears their throat from our right, and we both swing around to look at a breathless Megane. "What?"

"Sorry if you were having a moment or anything," he pants, trying to sound frustrated. "But you two totally just forgot me!"

"Hey, man," I grin. "Where're you headed?"

"Sapporo," he sighs.

"Damn," I reply. "And I was hoping we'd end up next-door neighbors." I motion at the slip of paper in his hand. "Let me see the address."

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, stuffing the paper in his pocket. "I could just… read it to you, or something."

"What?" I reach for his pocket, but he jumps away. "What's the big deal? I mean… Ohh… It's got your name on, hasn't it?" I make another grab for the crumpled piece of paper. "Come to think of it, what _is _your name, anyway?"

"That's for me to know," Megane quips, catching my wrist, "and you to never find out."

Misaki laughs as I chase him in a furious circle. "Oh, come on, man!" I complain, only half caring that I'm getting dangerously close to a whine and that I'm acting like I did when I was five. "I'm going to die of curiosity now! Christ, can't you just…"

Megane wedges Misaki between us, easily diverting the subject from his real name. "Where do you apparently live, then?"

"I'm staying here," I groan. "Not that far away."

"I wish I was," Misaki sighs heavily. "I don't want to go anywhere. At least not for a while."

I stop short, catching Megane and Misaki by surprise as they keep on walking. "Let's not," I propose.

"Not what?"

"Let's not go anywhere," I elaborate. "At least for a night. We can go find a hotel or something."

Misaki raises an eyebrow with the expected skepticism. "How much money have you got, exactly?"

"Enough, I think" I reply. "C'mon. Can't hurt to find out."

Megane smirks. "I'd take you up on that, but I'm guessing this isn't an open invitation. I don't want to, you know," he gestures at us, "be in the way, or anything."

"What?"

"Well, as long as we three don't have to share a bed, I'm in."

Misaki rolls her eyes and punches him in the shoulder. "Alright, alright, perhaps it's best you just ditch us for your family."

He grins. "I had a turtle when I was a kid. I kind of want to see if it's still alive. There's a good chance, apparently. I hear those damn things can live forever."

"Well, good luck with your immortal pet turtle," she replies. "Hug?"

He sweeps her into a bear hug. "Are you kidding?" But before either of us realizes what's going on, Misaki's three feet away with a piece of paper in her hand.

"Really?" She bursts out laughing. "Ah, right, I remember it now… I remember. It doesn't suit you at all, you know." Both of us lunge for Megane's address slip, but its real owner gets there before I can.

"You bitch," he gasps. "That was _so _not cool."

"No kidding," I close my arms around her shoulders, nipping at her ear. "C'mon. Tell me." No such luck. She shoves me into a conveniently nearby telephone pole.

oOoOo

"What do you think?" Misaki whispers, squishing one of the throw pillows on the lobby couch. "Should we tell them we're newlyweds? I bet they'd buy it."

"What good would that do?"

She reaches up and ruffles my hair affectionately. "The honeymoon suite."

"Who honeymoons in downtown Tokyo?" I scoff. "We do not need a honeymoon suite, Misaki. I mean, any room'll do, as long as there's a bed."

"Is that all you worry about?" she asks, smirking.

I scoff indignantly. "I just don't want to sleep on the floor. And besides, weren't you the one going on about the honeymoon suite five seconds ago?"

"It was merely a possibility," Misaki replies. "Why are you worried about there not being a bed? If there wasn't one, it would be kind of pointless. Aren't hotels for sleeping in?"

"Among other things," I add quietly, pulling her close.

"Again, is that all you worry about?"

I roll my eyes at her. "Alright, now you're just being a hypocrite."

"I am doing no such thing," Misaki says stubbornly, taking my hand and pulling me up from the sofa. "So, shall we?"

I smile briefly before we nearly stumble into an inconveniently placed coffee table. "We shall," I declare, trying to regain a bit of dignity in front of the woman behind the desk who I'm positive has been watching us through the corner of her eyes the whole time.

We're handed a key and directed up to the third floor. Misaki and I share an apprehensive glance before pushing open the door assigned to us.

"Not bad," she announces, throwing herself on the bed. "What do we do now?"

I join her, bouncing up and down on the edge of the mattress a few times. "You know, I really don't have any idea,"

"What do you want to do, then?"

"Oh, I don't know…" I sigh. "We can dance and kiss and celebrate and drink root beer from wine glasses." Misaki gives me a look. "I'm a man of simple pleasures."

She giggles, pulling me down with her. "Whatever happened to drinking wine from wine glasses? Too old-fashioned?"

"We haven't got any wine."

"Or root beer," she points out.

"Or wine glasses." We both lapse into laughter, not entirely sure what's so funny.

"I think there's room service," I suggest. "That's an option."

"Oh, no it's not," Misaki replies, a bit disappointedly. "I'm not paying for anything unless I plan on walking to Kobe."

I stare at her for a few seconds. "Kobe… Really?"

"Really."

The ceiling fan seems louder than it was a minute ago. "Damn."

"Hey, don't get all depressed on me, now," Misaki scolds. "It's not as if it's forever. I mean, I'm not a little kid. I can move if I want. Maybe when we get all this family stuff sorted out, then we could find a place together, or…"

"Mmm…" I push myself up on my elbows and kiss her, my fingers tangling in her hair and caressing the curve of her waist. "Sounds like a plan."

She settles her hands around the back of my neck, letting my lips trail down her throat and across her collarbone. "I think we need a plan for the next few hours more than one for the next few years."

"Do we need to plan for everything?"

"It helps," she mutters, giving in to my insistent touch. "Fine, fine…"

oOoOo

I can't decide whether I'm exhausted or on top of the world. It takes me a few drowsy minutes before I realize that I could be both, and I spend a few more in quiet bliss at the thought.

Misaki rolls over, draping her arm across my chest and tracing the line of my collarbone. "Mmm… You up?"

"I am now," I sigh, stroking the hair tenderly from her eyes. "Morning, Sunshine."

"Quit calling me that," she murmurs into my shoulder, trying to be serious, but I know she's smiling. "I don't feel very sunshine-y right now."

I smile down at her. "And why would that be, Sunshine?"

She comes alive, pushing me over and pinning me down but still grinning triumphantly. "I told you to stop that."

"I asked you a question."

"I was thinking about all the people who were here before us, you see. Do you have any idea what is in this bed?" she questions, making a face.

"Besides the obvious, Sunshine?" I chuckle and slide a finger lightly up her side. Misaki squeaks, shivers, and I begin to tickle her in earnest. I've got years of practice and I know what drives her insane: my hands find their way to the back of her knee and the spot just below her ribcage.

"Goddamn, quit it!" she gasps, trying to squirm out of my grasp. The resultant scuffle sends us both tumbling over the edge of the bed, and we lie sprawled on the floor, tangled in the bedsheets and each other.

Misaki sighs, drawing a finger across the carpet. "Imagine what kind of nasty stuff is on this floor."

"Thanks," I reply, rolling my eyes. "I feel all gross now."

She heaves a sigh. "Yeah. I feel like I should go take a…" she trails off, staring at the ceiling for a couple seconds before flashing me a mischievous grin. "Shower."

I blink. "What?"

oOoOo

"No," I state firmly. "This has 'Bad Idea' written all over it."

"Oh, you're such a killjoy," Misaki scolds. "People do this all the time. What's your deal?"

I shake my head again. "This is all kinds of unsafe. I mean, people slip in showers. You could hit your head on the faucet or the side of the tub and die. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would be to die in a hotel shower?"

"Well, you," she replies, oh-so-wittily. "Are all kinds of paranoid."

I push the vinyl curtain farther back, peering at the weird shower machinery. "If you insist…"

"Which I do."

"Well then." Apprehensively, I step over the lip of the tub and turn the shower on, only to curse loudly and jump back against the wall. "That's freezing!"

Misaki rolls her eyes. "What did you expect? It's a crappy hotel shower. It's got to warm up."

"Fine, then," I grumble. "What are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

She sticks her hand under the spray. "Argue about the possible ways shower sex could go horribly wrong, like we've been. It's warm now."

"So." I raise my eyebrows. "What exactly do we do?"

"We take a shower," Misaki explains, hopping over the side of the tub and throwing her head back into the water. "And where it goes, it goes. Ah, look, they've got teeny bottles of shampoo!"

I reach around her for the teeny soap, pushing her aside to get myself thoroughly soaked. "Hey!" she exclaims, wedging herself in between me and the shower wall. "Let me back in!"

"Tough," I scoff in reply. "We're sharing." Misaki displays her rapidly sinking maturity level by splashing water in my face, and giggling when I splutter.

I lunge at her on a wild impulse, which I realize too late I'm not in a very practical place for doing. The shower curtain's no help in keeping us up, and I end up slipping backwards. The edge of the tub breaks my fall, fortunately or no, colliding with my upper back.

"Ohh…" I groan in pain. "Fuck…"

"Well," Misaki points out helpfully from on top of me, her legs wrapped distractingly around my waist. "At least you're not dead. That's a plus."

"Thank you for looking on the bright side, Sunshine," I mutter, somewhat to myself, as I'm a bit more preoccupied with following the water's flow over her body.

"Can you get up?" she asks, her eyes rolling briefly to the ceiling when she realizes what I've been staring at.

I push myself up to a sitting position. "Yeah, I think so." Misaki shifts herself back a little to adjust, and I'm suddenly overwhelmingly aware of her. I can't take it anymore. Her body, temptingly slick with water, is irresistibly close, wholly mine, and Christ, she's beautiful.

"Crap," she manages to gasp between kiss after tantalizing kiss, "I'm not going to get to use any of the little shampoo, am I?"

"Damn right you're not," I growl possessively. By this point, she's past coherency, and offers only a soft moan in reply.

oOoOo

I swear, you would have had to pry me out of that room with a crowbar. All I wanted was for time to stop. There, it seemed to. I wanted to lose myself in her, to spend forever in this blissful, trancelike state. Everything was gone: the Academy, the real world, our impending separation. In these last hours (or were they minutes? Days?), I can't help but get the feeling that I couldn't live without her.

I tell her so.

"That doesn't make any sense," she replies matter-of-factly, while trying to figure out the coffee maker. "Physically, you should be fine. It's not as if I'm part of you, or anything." She whacks the uncooperative appliance sharply on its plastic lid. "Damn thing!"

"It's romantic, Misaki," I groan, pulling her away before she can abuse the coffee maker further. "And what did that thing ever do to you?"

She softens slightly, ruffling my hair. "I guess it's kind of sweet. But don't say things like that anymore, okay?"

Somehow we manage to find our way to the train station that afternoon. Misaki takes a deep breath, and I stand there glaring at the building as though it's caused me personal harm.

"Stop looking like that," she murmurs caringly, kissing me lightly on the lips then drawing back to look me square in the eye. "It's not forever. Remember that."

I pull her close, holding her tighter than I have in weeks and savoring each second. I can feel time slow again as Misaki buries her face in my shoulder and I find myself intoxicated with her: with the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin, with her very essence.

"Bye," she murmurs. "I love you."

It takes nearly a minute before I can bring myself to let go.

About a minute later, I realize I'm broke and I'm walking home.

oOoOo

I've found another way that the Academy utterly fails at preparing us for being an inhabitant of the real world. In there, there are about five places you need to know how to get to, a limited area in which they are, and enough time to get the place memorized completely. Buildings were referred to by their names rather than a number. But out here, I'm trying to find an address and have no idea how the system works.

I can't say I've ever been extremely persistent with things like this. Therefore, it's not as if I'm letting myself down when I swear loudly and kick a nearby wall.

Not smart. I hop around for a few anguished seconds before falling over on the sidewalk.

"Hey… You okay?"

I look up, trying to locate the bright voice, and I end up staring at a little girl with some sort of instrument case that's half as tall as she is. "Er, yeah, I'm fine…"

"Well, that's good…" She smiles cheerfully. "What're you so mad about?"

"Oh, nothing," I groan, pushing myself back up. "I'm just trying to find…" I fish the slip of paper out of my pocket, "this address. Do you think you could help?" I feel a bit odd asking strange pre-teen girls for help, but I'm going to have to put that aside for now.

I expect another cheery reply, but I get a few seconds of silence. "Of course I know where this is." She looks up at me for explanation. "That's my house."

"What?"

"Yeah, really…" She frowned. "Why do you need to get there? I don't know you."

"Uh, sorry, but, what's your name?" I ask her, holding my breath.

She puts down her instrument and extends a hand for me to shake. "I'm Sayu Andou. What's your name?"

"I'm Tsubasa," I reply, a bit unsure whether I should be jumping to conclusions about this. "Andou."

She blinks. "Are we related?"

"I don't know," I tell her truthfully. "Do you think you could take me to your house? I mean, unless you're going somewhere…"

"Sure, I was going home anyway," she smiles. "My brother was supposed to pick me up from my lesson, 'cause mom doesn't like me walking around alone, she gets all protective like that sometimes, but I guess he forgot, so I was going to walk home by myself."

"Brother?"

"Yeah. He's usually really good about things like this, but…"

We set off down the block, and I gesture at the instrument in her hand. "What's in the case?"

"Trombone," Sayu replies with a shy giggle.

"Cool… So, what are your parents like?"

oOoOo

My family's door is red. That's a good sign, though I don't know exactly why. My extremely possible little sister or relation of some kind pounds on it, and it opens on a tall and skinny teenage boy who's obviously unfamiliar with his height but is trying to make it look as if it suits him. He stares down at Sayu for a few seconds, then leans against the doorframe. "Dammit," he grumbles, running a hand through his short hair. "Sorry, Sayu, I completely forgot."

I clear my throat, and he looks up.

"Sayu," mutters the boy who I assume is her (my?) brother. "How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?"

"But," she replies, setting her trombone case up against a shelf just inside the door and pointing at me. "Tsubasa-kun said that he needed to get here. He's got a piece of paper with our address on it and everything."

He stares at me with skepticism, narrowing his clear blue (my color blue- I shudder) eyes threateningly. "Who the hell are you?"

I take a deep breath and decide there's no way to say this that wouldn't sound weird and I may as well just be direct. "My name's Tsubasa Andou. I've been away at school for the last…" I pause briefly to do the math, "seventeen years, give or take, and I think I'm your brother."

There's a good ten seconds of silence before Sayu breaks it. "Cool." Her brother apparently thinks no such thing, pulls her inside before she can get another word out, gives me a look that clearly implies that I'm crazy, and slams the red door in my face.

Excellent. Couldn't have gone better.

I knock on the door again. "Really," I shout, "I'd kind of like to be let in."

No response, that is, until there's a sudden scuffling behind the door. It flies open, and I suddenly find myself enveloped in a warm hug.

"Oh my God, Tsubasa, I had no idea!" the woman exclaims as we sway a little on the spot. "God, it's been years, and…" She pulls away, holding me at arm's length and looking up at my face, beaming. "Oh, look at you, you're so tall! I feel so terrible for everything, I'm sorry, I really am, you can't imagine…" Her eyes brim with tears and she hugs me again, tighter.

"No, no, it's okay," I murmur soothingly. "Mom?"

She stands on tiptoe and kisses my cheek. "Yes."

The rest of the family has gathered around in all the commotion: Sayu, her brother, and a lighter-haired man I assume to be my father. "Setsuko," he cuts in, mercifully. "Let the poor boy breathe."

"Oh, yes, I suppose I'm being a bit too emotional, aren't I," She mutters half to herself, clipping back a few stray strands of hair threatening to come free from her loose knot at the nape of her neck. I decide she's pretty, for a mom.

Before I know it, I'm sitting in a rocking chair that's been pulled up to the dining-room table in the absence of spare chairs and being practically force-fed (_"You're so thin, are you sure they've been feeding you properly?"_). I was hurriedly introduced to my siblings: Sayu, who's twelve, and Natsume, who just turned fifteen.

"Natsume?" I repeated, badly concealing a slight hint of laughter.

He raised a single eyebrow at me. "My name funny to you?"

"No," I replied hastily, just barely stopping myself from adding "sir." "Not at all."

"So," my father asks over soup. "Do you have anywhere to stay? We can make some room for you here. The house isn't that big, but I'm sure we could make you fit."

I pause for a moment to swallow. "Thanks. I'll try not to bother you for too long, though. I'd like to get a job, and a place of my own… I've got a girlfriend, and we're thinking about moving in together sometime."

"Are you sure you should be living with a girl?" my mom asks, in a somewhat refreshing motherly way.

"For Pete's sake, Setsuko, he's nearly twenty-one," Dad interjects, pointing his spoon at her. The spoon then lands on me. "How long've you two been together?"

I count on my fingers, realizing that it's a bit pathetic that I don't know off the top of my head. "It's a bit over three years, I think, if we're talking officially."

He shrugs. "Well, technically, we can't tell you what to do anymore."

"What school were you at since you were three?" Sayu questions, stirring her soup into a whirlpool. "I mean, I didn't even know you existed. What kind of sick place is this?"

"I went to Alice Academy, actually," I inform her.

Her eyes widen. "No way!"

Natsume props his chin up with his hand and scoffs. "Doesn't look like a genius to me."

I look from my parents to my brother and sister and back. "You never told them?"

"Yeah, really," Sayu agrees, glaring at her parents accusingly. "What the hell, guys?"

"There's more than just that, though," my father begins, but then looks over at me. "You want to take this one?"

"Er… sure." I take a while to decide where to start. "Alice Academy, you see, isn't really a school for geniuses."

"Really?"

"Really," I confirm. "Believe me, I am nowhere near genius material. But what the Academy is is a whole lot cooler. Alice Academy is actually a school for people with special powers."

Natsume rolls his eyes. "Mom, I told you the guy was insane."

She merely shakes her head. "No, it's true. I've seen it with my own eyes."

"Fine then," he challenges. "What's your special power?"

"It's called shadow manipulation, officially," I attempt to explain. "I can do a bunch of things with shadows. I can move people, I can use my own shadow to get around and do stuff, it's kind of hard to explain."

"I don't believe you," he replies stubbornly. I didn't really expect him to.

I stand up and push in my chair. "Get up."

"Why?"

"I'm going to prove this to you. Go ahead and stand up."

Natsume grudgingly gets to his feet, and I position myself so I have access to his shadow. "Try and move," I dare him. "Go on."

He tries, and fails. "What the hell are you doing to me?"

"I've got your shadow," I reply simply. "Here, watch this." I wave my arms around wildly, and Natsume mimics the gesture, blushing furiously.

"How're you doing that?" Sayu exclaims in delight. "That is _so_ cool! Do me next!"

"Sure." I head over to the other side of the table, and I hear Natsume heave a sigh of relief to be back in control of his own body. "Hey, check this out. Can you jump?" Sayu springs off the ground as high as she can, and just as she begins to come down, I slip my foot forwards and gain control of her shadow.

"Wow!" she giggles, marveling at how she's suspended in midair. "This is amazing!" Natsume leans over the table, his eyes wide, and my parents gasp in surprise.

My brother shakes his head in disbelief when I let Sayu down. "Crazy. My long-lost brother's a circus freak."

"Now, Natsume," Mom scolds. "Don't talk like that."

"It's fine, I don't mind." I find myself yawning, and suddenly remember how little sleep I got last night. "If it's alright with you guys, I'm kind of tired."

"Sure." Dad stands up and pokes around in a hall closet, producing a faded green comforter. "C'mere, I'll find you a place to sleep."

"He's not sharing with me!" Natsume shouts down the hallway. I chuckle. That night, curled up on the pleasantly comfortable sofa, I wonder what it would have been like if I had had this life from the beginning.

oOoOo

Misaki comes to visit in mid-July, just after my twenty-first birthday. I meet her in the middle of a park, which I probably should have realized wasn't the best place for a reunion if we were planning to kiss. Which we were, of course.

A few people give us weird looks. Screw them.

We walk around aimlessly until we're lost, eventually finding ourselves at a playground. I fall off the merry-go-round and get woodchips all over me, Misaki builds a sand castle with a little girl, and we end up swinging for a while. I lose track of time again… Minutes? Hours? I only wish for days.

We keep going, arm in arm, trying to find somewhere I recognize in order to find my way back home. But, we do so in an unexpected way. Misaki nudges me in the ribs. "Look where we are."

The gates are unmistakable, and the sprawling grounds behind them.

"It's so weird," she continues, after a few silent moments of staring at the place we'd grown up, "looking from the outside in."

I twine my fingers with hers and squeeze. "Yeah."

It's an odd sense of bliss, with Misaki's head on my shoulder and the Academy in my sight. But it's a sense of bliss nonetheless, and I may as well enjoy it.

* * *

I don't know much about the actual graduation process, so I kind of had to wing it. I realized after writing this that I never did specify where their belongings went or what happened to them. Oops.

...Natsume. I couldn't resist.

Review...? It makes my day. Honest.


	8. Not Half the Man

This chapter is super short, especially because I'm averaging almost five thousand words per chapter now, but it's mostly just a kind of transition. I didn't want to just take this out, because it would leave a huge gap and make no sense, and I didn't want to work it in to next chapter because I'd like to avoid changing from Tsubasa's to Misaki's point of view in the middle of it. So this is just kind of here. I'll try to update soon, though (alright, you all know I won't, but whatever) because I've been wanting to write these next few chapters for a while.

Enjoy.

Disclaimed, except for Akane, the random girl across the hall.

_**

* * *

**_

Tsubasa, 2015

There are things adults tell you when you're young, before your "question authority" phase, that you believe purely because they're adults and they say so. One of these things is that true love never dies. You grow up believing that someday you'll find The One and you'll be together forever. You think that you're going to grow up and marry that one girl who let you borrow her red crayon, but then a month later you find you don't ever remember her name.

Their excuse for this is that it wasn't true love. Just a little crush, maybe. Puppy love comes up a lot. But who's to say? What is true love, anyway? Can anyone define it? I know I can't. Not in words.

If love doesn't last, does that make it any less real? Less true? If you're young, does that mean it's impossible to fall seriously for that nosy red-headed girl who sat next to you in kindergarten? Just because I live alone in a tiny apartment and sleep as many hours of the day as possible just to avoid thinking, does that mean I've never been in love?

I loved Misaki Harada more than anything in the world, and I'm sure of it.

See, this is why I try to stop thinking. When I think, I get like this. Jesus. I sound like a goddamn romance novelist.

It's been four years. It rained that day, and that's one of the only things I really remember. I feel like I should have taken it as some sort of a bad omen, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. It rained the day before, and for two days afterward. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary, at least for the rest of the world.

Now that I'm an adult, I'm finding that the whole experience isn't all it's cracked up to be. I was wondering when my life would take off, when I'd get a nice place and a steady job that I like and get married and live comfortably until I retire to wherever. So far, that hasn't really been working out for me.

The first year and a half or so of adulthood was almost dreamlike. With some stroke of luck, I managed to get a decent apartment for an okay price and we lived there together. We were happy, kick-back-in-bed-with-a-glass-of-wine, watch-reruns-of-old-sitcoms-at-three-in-the-morning happy. It was everything I'd ever wanted, but I'd forgotten how things tended to be too good to be true.

And then, poof, she was gone. Just like that. I don't even remember what we started fighting about, only that I'd had a few beers and at some point she threw a plate at the wall. We'd argued before; Misaki was hardly the type to just calmly sit by. Sometimes she had to go sit in the park or walk around for an hour or two until she came to her senses. I guess I figured that was one of those times, so I just went to bed and waited. When I got up that morning, she hadn't come back. I called her, and her phone was off. I went out to get some more ice cream that afternoon, and when I came back, all her things were gone.

There was a Post-It note stuck to the bedroom door, but there wasn't anything on it. I think she was going to write a note, but didn't know what to say. I don't blame her. If it were me, I wouldn't have known either.

I put down my ice cream, got in bed, and stayed there for seventeen hours. That was when it was all real. That was the beginning of Hell.

I'd like to convince myself that this is somewhat of a nightmare. It'd be great if I turned out to be some fucked up Alice in Wonderland and woke up and Misaki would look over and ask what was wrong and I'd say, man, did I have one hell of a dream. Either this is a dream, or everything else was, because this seems like too sharp of a downturn to be in the same universe as my life before.

If this is reality, frankly, I'm disappointed.

They say life isn't fair. Mikan didn't do a thing and she ended up targeted by a power-hungry psycho. Kaname was one of the sweetest people you'll ever meet, and now he's six feet under.

They say that you're just a screwball kid, and relationships are supposed to end at your age, after you grew up thinking your life was going to be a fairy tale.

I did realize years ago that things were never going to be faultless. Misaki would never have sat idly by in a perfect romance. She was too free to be tied down. I knew that going in, so I can't help feeling that I should have expected this. I always thought that if I loved her and she loved me, everything would just work out. All you need is love, they say.

I tried to tell myself that if I'd known, I would have done something about it. I wouldn't have let her become such a part of me that I couldn't be happy without her. But in the end, I wouldn't have been able to help it. Loving her came involuntarily. Those years when I was lost in her, in love, I wouldn't trade for anything.

About six months afterward, I was still a wreck. Tono came around unannounced to see how I'd been coping. It was the first time he'd called since before. I never told him, so he must have heard from her.

After a cup of coffee and several minutes of looking at me in a really weird way, he asked if I'd considered Prozac. He was only half kidding.

"You know what you need to do?" he said, waving an airy hand at me from across the counter. "You need to go get laid. Seriously. Take your mind off things. It's what I'd do if it were me."

"Of course it's what you'd do," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

She was stunning; with long, dark hair that cascaded down her back in waves, she was a bit tipsy, and she was inexplicably attracted to me, a marginally depressed almost-twenty-three-year-old man who was well on his way to drinking himself stupid. I think she might have told me her name, but fuck if I remember anything. That morning I felt guilty, trudged back home with a hangover from Hell, threw myself on the couch and decided to forget the whole ordeal.

I tried again. And again. I got into a good conversation with a friendly woman on the bus once, but when she ended up giving me her phone number I told her I had a girlfriend for some stupid reason. It made sense to try and get into relationships, but my heart wasn't really in it. There was a brief fling with a co-worker when I worked at this bookstore for a few months, but we mostly ignored each other. The closest thing to an emotional connection I had was when I ended up in bed with a university student who lived across the hall when I moved in to my new apartment. She'd just been dumped by her boyfriend. I think we both ended up crying.

I would rely on memories to keep me sane. I could replay entire days in my head. It was like nothing else.

I've tried to convince myself that I've got plenty going for me, even without her. For years I've been trying to make myself believe that. But when you spend four years telling yourself that you're fine without this girl, that you don't care about her as much as you did back then, then I think you've pretty much contradicted yourself.

You know what I hate? I kept wondering when I'd start to know everything. When you're growing up, it seems like all the adults do. But I've found that those grown-ups were just as clueless as we were. How's that for disappointing?

oOoOo

I'm watching some random crime drama on TV when someone pounds on the door. My door doesn't get pounded on a lot, so I'm a bit confused, but I'm saved the trouble of looking out the little hole in the door when she yells from outside.

The girl across the hall, the aforementioned university student I slept with a couple years ago, is called Akane Shinohara. If it had been anyone else, they probably would have awkwardly stayed over on their side of the hall until one of us moved out. But not her. She's possibly one of the most outgoing people I've ever met, and that includes Mikan. Seriously. It's actually kind of obnoxious. But being so, she's the kind of person I can't help spilling my guts to. I figure it's probably not healthy to bottle things up, even though it's what I'd prefer to do.

I open the door with a sigh and she shoves a pink box in my arms. "I have cupcakes."

"Hello to you too." I peek inside the box. "Er… why?"

"Leftover from my friend's birthday." Akane waltzes in and flops back in an armchair. "We splurged on these incredible cupcakes from some expensive bakery a few blocks down. The really cool ones are all gone, like the ones with the weird moving butterflies, but these sparkle like crazy. See, look." I open the box, and the icing glimmers with an odd crystalline sheen. I was expecting glitter.

"Weird…" I mutter.

"I know." She gets up and leans over the counter, swooping her finger through the swirl of frosting on top of one cupcake. "I wonder how they get frosting to do stuff like this. I mean, it's like magic. Unreal. These people should _so _be on the Food Network."

Unreal is right. "Did you say the butterflies on the other ones moved? That's impossible, unless…" I trail off, staring at the box in my hands.

"Unless what?"

I curiously bite into the cake, and then I'm sure. "This is alice food."

Akane raises an eyebrow with a slight chuckle. "It doesn't say 'Eat Me' on it anywhere. You're not growing. I think you're good."

"Not that kind of alice." I turn the pink bakery box over to see if I can find any identification. "Where did you get these?"

"I told you, this fancy bakery down the street. Go down a few blocks, then hang a left. It's real hard to miss. It's a crazy popular place. Lines down the block and everything." She looks closer at me, trying to figure out my expression. "What's with you? I know they're good, but in the end, it's just cake."

Over the years, I've gradually lost contact with most of my school friends. I don't talk to Misaki, obviously, Megane's gotten a job and he's too busy to come down for a visit most of the time. Tono'll swing by every now and then, but it's nothing regular. I met Mikan and Natsume a couple times, but we don't talk much.

It'd be nice to find out how they're all doing. Alright, it'd mostly be nice to see how Misaki's doing. Apparently she's fallen out of touch with Tono as well. Mikan says she hasn't seen her, but I'm pretty sure she's lying.

If this place is as popular as Akane says, then all kinds of alice people must have stopped by. Someone must know where she is, if she's doing okay. It's a faint glimmer of hope, but it's all I've got to go on at the moment.

Besides, I decide after another bite, his is a damn good cupcake.

"Sorry," I call, halfway out the door. "Got something to do."

* * *

This kind of skipped around a lot, but It was supposed to. Just so we're clear.

I'd really like to be through with OC's, but Akane-chan's been in since I was planning last summer and I really couldn't think of anyone else to put in.

Review, please?


	9. Clean Slate

Alright, this took me forever. I sincerely apologize. But here's how it's gonna go from here on out:

1. I post one more chapter and an epilogue.

2. I re-post all the chapters at once in a MASS EDIT. Not like when they have you waiting months for one edited chapter. Actual chapters I can't promise to be quick on, though. Evidently.

I'd like to wrap this up by the end of the year. (My God... Is this story almost a year old? Damn.)

Well, that's enough of that. Hey ho let's go!

* * *

**_Misaki, 2015_**

The cake is four feet tall, four feet long, and sculpted into the shape of a cartoon brontosaurus. It waves its neck and tail in a way that's just slow enough to look possibly animatronic, but is in fact an artful side effect of an excellent cooking alice. Being able to move, however, doesn't mean that the thing has a brain, and, swinging its head just as I screech the truck to an abrupt halt when the light changes unexpectedly, it manages to decapitate itself.

I pull over with a sinking feeling and hop out to inspect the damage. When I push open the back, the dinosaur is lying on its side, head hanging off and tail still feebly stirring from side to side. Frustratedly, I fish out my phone from my pocket in order to call someone from the bakery for help. But before I can put in the right number, it vibrates startlingly in my hand.

"Anna!" I gasp in relief. "I was just about to call you. See, there's this thing with the dinosaur cake that I really need you to—"

She cuts me off. "Yeah, well, I need you to get here as soon as possible, hon."

"What? Why?"

"There's something here that you've got to see." Anna giggles, and I lean back against the side of the truck and sigh. "Get back here _now, _Misaki."

"Can't that wait? I've got a seven-year-old with rich parents who are going to be really disappointed if their birthday cake shows up headless, I've got to drive across town to get there, and you _know_ I hate playing delivery girl." I pause and rest the phone against my shoulder to call the pushy person with the navy convertible a motherfucker. "Can you just come help me? I need some serious damage control."

"Road rage much?" She groans, and I can tell she's rolling her eyes. "Drive back and I'll get Miruku to help you."

"But who's going to deliver the—"

"Get a clone to do it. Several people, including you, are going to be _really _disappointed if you don't show up within the next ten minutes."

"For the last time, they're not called—"

Before I can finish my sentence, Anna hangs up. With a halfhearted sigh, I push the cake into a spot where it's not likely to come to any further harm and get back in the truck. She's not usually this persuasive.

oOoOo

I pull up to the back entrance in the alley and enlist the help of a few doppelgangers to lug the headless dinosaur back into the kitchen, where I'm met by Miruku and a couple more. Once I've got the cake up on the table, I push up my sleeves and grab my apron from the hook on the wall. "You got it from here?" I ask.

"It'll be fine," she assures me. "I'll call and tell the parents their cake's going to be a little late, and I'll get one of you to drive it over once I've fixed it. Meanwhile, I think you'd better get upstairs before Anna explodes."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard. What's so important, anyway?"

Miruku looks up at me with an amused smile. "When you find out it's going to seem really obvious, but I don't think I'll spoil it for you."

"Misaki!" I jump about a foot and drop my apron when Anna yells from the doorway. "Get out here, you idiot! You're so slow!" She launches herself forwards and latches tightly onto my wrist, pulling me along back into the shop.

"Must really be something," I mutter under my breath to Miruku before I'm dragged out of the room. "It's got her calling me names."

Once I've been led into the shop and out from behind the counter, Anna beams at me expectantly. I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to be looking at, until I spot the tall, dark-haired man sitting at a table in the corner with last week's comics and half a slice of coconut cake.

I look around instinctively for somewhere to hide.

When Anna nudges me in the ribs and grins, I nearly slap myself in the forehead. I really _should _have known. "Are you crazy?" I whisper at her hysterically, glancing towards the man in the corner and praying he doesn't look up. "He probably hates me!"

She huffs at me frustratedly. "He just came to find you, didn't he?"

"To find… me?" I repeat, feeling a little stupid.

"Yes" Anna waves a finger at me threateningly. "Now go tell him something. You've been hiding long enough. I know you missed him and God knows what you put the poor man through."

I blink at her and tilt my head in confusion. "What's gotten into you? Someone would actually think you were _angry_ for once in your life."

Anna heaves an impatient sigh. "Just go!"

I try and think of some other argument against it but before I can I look over and Tsubasa Andou is staring at me as if I'm some kind of miracle and I can't help but get the feeling I've just been majorly bitchslapped by fate.

We watch each other for a few seconds, and his eyes are so vibrant I can make out the color from across the room. In those long moments I fill in the gaps in my memory. It's hard to believe you can spend your whole life with a person, but when you close your eyes and try to think of them, the image you come up with is hardly more than a blur.

Tsubasa slowly gets to his feet and pushes between a couple of schoolgirls to cover the distance between us. "Long time, no see," he says for lack of anything better, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He can't take his eyes off me, and I notice with embarrassment that I'm wearing my old green sweater with the hole in the stomach where I'd picked at the threads this morning and I'd rubbed my eyes without thinking earlier and probably have big dark smudges under them. To be fair, he doesn't look that great either, but more in a sense that he looks more serious than I remember him. Sadder, somehow.

"Er… yeah," I respond quietly. I'd like to look down at my feet but find that it's somehow impossible.

"You're going on break now, sweetie," Anna commands.

I blink, suddenly aware I haven't been. "Sorry, what?"

Anna is leaning over the counter, ignoring her paying customers and practically oozing satisfaction. "Go right ahead, darling. While you're at it, have a cream puff." She hands Tsubasa and I each a pastry and almost shoves us out the door.

We stand there in suffocating silence. A car drives past and I follow it with my eyes, desperate for something to look at.

"Sorry," wonders Tsubasa confusedly, his mouth full of cream puff. "But did she just throw us out on the curb?"

"I guess so." Subtly, I gesture at his cheek and take a bite of my own puff. "You've got some…"

"Ah, damn." He flushes and rubs the cream from his face.

The conversation's eventually going to turn to more serious topics, and I figure I may as well start it along before he tells me what a nice day it is. "Why are you here?"

"Well." Tsubasa arches his eyebrows. "That's certainly more direct than you usually are."

I scoff in indignation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, for one, instead of actually taking your relationship issues up with me, you storm out the door and leave me heartbroken," he mutters, forcing a sarcastic smile.

"So this is all my fault now?" I raise my voice slightly.

Any pretense of friendliness is gone from his expression. "I never knew what I did wrong. Never. Do you have _any _idea what that was like for me?"

I open my mouth but realize he's right, and it takes me a while to come up with a decent argument in my favor. "You… could've come after me if you felt so strongly about that," I manage.

He rolls his eyes. "God, why do girls always _say _that? It makes no sense."

"How many girls have said that to you, anyway?"

"Well… you know, on TV…" Tsubasa shakes his head and continues. "You can't just pin all our problems on me for not going after you. If it had been the other way around you wouldn't have run out after me. Don't you dare try to tell me different, because you know you wouldn't have. " He's almost shouting by now.

"They're watching us," I interject, trying to bring him back down to a sensible volume.

Tsubasa shuts up immediately. Anna waves from the window. Another car drives by.

He motions for me to follow him. "If we're going to yell at each other, it may as well not be in public."

I skip a few paces to keep up with him. "Where are we going then?"

"My place." He points over at a medium-sized reddish building. "Over there, in that one. About four blocks thataway."

"You can't just pick your ex-girlfriend up off the street and take her home with you, you know," I inform him, in case that's what he was going for.

Tsubasa scoffs. "I'm not going to try and sleep with you, if that's what you were thinking I was getting at. Why is everything always about sex with you?"

Alright, now I'm a little offended. "With me? Everything is _not _always about sex with me, thank you. I was the one who had to pretty much fight you off with a stick when we were kids!"

He stops, turning around. "When were you a kid? I distinctly remember you trying to—"

"So was that our problem?" I interrupt. "Sex? Because if it was, I don't see any point to arguing this further."

"I get the feeling we had a lot of problems," Tsubasa mutters quietly. "None of which I knew about. Care to enlighten me?"

"Really, Tsubasa." With a sigh, I glance around. "We broke up years ago. I've moved on, you've moved on. Does any of it really matter anymore?"

He grabs my shoulder, catching me by surprise. "It matters to me," he says firmly, his expression serious and his eyes blazing. "I loved you. Goddammit, I probably still love you. But if you don't care, I'll let you go and you can just go back and never see me again."

"So that's it, then?" I ask, my voice sounding thinner and less confident than I'd like. "I fall back in love with you at a moment's notice and we live happily ever after, or we cut off all contact? We were friends. Good friends." shaking off any hesitation, I look up and meet his eyes. "They always say relationships ruin everything. I figured we knew what we were doing."

"We were seventeen!" he exclaims. "Nobody knows what they're doing when they're seventeen! You do what feels right. You felt right." Tsubasa merely stares down at me faintly, his fingers idly stroking a stray lock of hair on my shoulder. He seems to have run out of words.

I open my mouth to reply and realize I have too.

After a moment of hesitation and a quick glance of silent comprehension, I reach my arms up around his neck and Tsubasa leans down and kisses me, deep, smooth, and slow.

It's surprisingly easy to fall back into old patterns, to pick up more or less where you left off, as if four years was nothing at all. He still knows how to kiss me in that certain way I used to love, and I consider wildly whether I ought to go home with him after all, just to see if he remembers.

A car honks at us. Tsubasa gives them the finger and holds me closer.

oOoOo

I slump forwards, groaning, and rest my head in my hands. "So let me get this straight," Anna says, for what seems like the millionth time. "You ran?"

"I ran," I confirm reluctantly. "Kill me now."

She pats me on the back. "Sorry, but _why_?"

"Picture this, Anna." I heave a sigh. "You pull away from this mind-blowing kiss, and your ex-boyfriend is looking at you like you've just fallen from heaven or something, and you don't really know how you got into this but you know you don't want to reject him outright. What would you do? Just stand there like an idiot?"

"No matter how hard you try, Misaki, I'm not going to see the logic behind running away from guys who're in love with you." Anna stares vaguely out the window. "Maybe you've got enough of them to do what you want, but I think he's the real deal."

I prop my chin up in my hand and blow the bangs from my face. "Why does everyone say that? I mean, we were kids. That shouldn't even count. Just another aimless teenage thing, isn't it?"

"Honey…" She laughs lightly. "There's a reason your second boyfriend ever was when you were twenty-three."

"So what should I do?"

Anna smiles, smoothing back my hair. "Find him, love him, get married, make me maid of honor. That's what you do."

oOoOo

The next morning, it took me a while to find the building Tsubasa had mentioned. It had been real nondescript, and I'd forgotten it almost immediately. However, using common sense and process of elimination once I'd racked my brains and remembered the color, I ended up in what I hoped was the right place. Even harder proved finding someone who could tell me which actual apartment he was in. Eventually, I just took the advice of a passing girl who looked nice enough.

I knock apprehensively, and he opens the door in sweats and a stupid earflap hat. Tsubasa notices it's me mid-yawn, and straightens in surprise. "Er… Good morning?"

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday." I do my best not to heave a sigh. "I was just a little bit freaked out."

"Okay." He raises his eyebrows. "Is that all?"

Silently, I invite myself in. "No, that's not all. I…" I find myself staring up at him, a little bit spellbound. "…I want to give this another shot."

Tsubasa takes off his hat, running a hand up through his hair. It's shorter now, but a tuft still sticks up on the left side. My hand reaches up almost magnetically to flatten it. He blinks in surprise, but doesn't argue. "So." He leans casually against the doorframe with a faint trace of a smile. "What changed your mind?"

I figure he'll be a little insulted if I say "Anna." But honestly, I don't know what else to say.

"Does it matter _what _changed my mind?" I ask, dodging the question. "As long as my mind's changed, I mean."

If he was sort of smiling before, he isn't now. "Just like it doesn't matter why you left."

I scoff. "God, can't you just let it go?"

"You know what our problem is?" Tsubasa replies. "Our problem is that we have too many problems. We just need to put everything behind us and start over. Clean slate, you know?" His serious expression turns slowly into an amused one, and I stare back at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Hi," he says, extending a hand. "My name is Tsubasa. Nice to meet you."

"This is stupid," I reply without missing a beat.

"Oh, come on, play along." He stares at me expectantly.

"Hey," I groan, giving his hand a firm shake. "I'm Misaki."

"So, then, Misaki…" Tsubasa asks, putting on a bit of an accent. "Would you be interested in joining me for dinner this coming Friday?"

I start to go along with it. "Friday?" I reply emphatically. "Why not make it Thursday?"

He shakes his head. "Then at least make it tomorrow."

"Tonight."

"Now."

I glance at the clock on the microwave. "It's ten forty-two."

"Screw that, then." He grins lightly. "So, tonight?"

"You were serious?"

"Naturally." With a particularly charming smile, he drops my hand and hooks his thumbs in his pockets. "I'll see you at six. Come to think of it, where _do_ you live?"

"I'm rooming with Anna," I admit. "In the flat above the bakery. Cheap rent."

Tsubasa nods. "Got it. Excellent."

"Please, please don't make me regret this," I beg of him.

He shakes his head. "I can't promise that. But I can do my best."

_**TBC**_

* * *

Next chapter will pick up right (more or less) where we left off, in Tsubasa's point of view.

Please forget the seemingly random appearance of Anna. I did say she'd be back... Like, a year ago, in another story. Minor details, minor details...

Don't forget to review. Your comments are much appreciated. Like, actually. Nothing makes me happier than someone who likes what I've done. I run around and giggle and stuff. It's real weird.

-TCATB


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